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Bringing Sparkles by Jenny Ann
PART ONE
*Wanna Be Startin' Somethin' (Thriller: Wanna Be Startin' Somethin') * ♪
The crowd roared and clamored to get closer. Its eyes were held in rapturous delight the minute he appeared. Each move, every gesture, even the slightest change in his facial expression produced a mass outpouring of emotion. A tidal wave of excitement bore its casualties as bodies were lifted out of the throng and delivered into the arms of waiting medics.
The notes, beats, melodies and rhythms were as visible to Michael as his tantalizing costumes and gravity-defying moves were to his audience. It seemed to him that he could reach out and touch the music with his hand.
He felt alive and free.
Michael paused at one point simply to take in the scene around him. Musician and dancer froze in anticipation of his next move. His pause was prolonged. He enjoyed teasing the audience in this way and it gave him an opportunity to look at them and feel their energy.
The crowd was thunderous and it hollered and growled with hunger. Spell-bound, it chanted his name over and over; Mi-chael, Mi-chael, Mi-chael…
And still he stayed perfectly still.
It was then that he looked up and first laid eyes on her. My God, she was beautiful!
Michael smiled and he wondered if his cyberspace girl would mind the next surprise he had in store.
ONE: You Give Me Fever Like I've Never Ever Known (Bad: The Way You Make Me Feel) ♪
I have been a fan of Michael’s since I was thirteen years old. I can pinpoint the exact moment I fell in love with him during his music video “The Way You Make Me Feel”.
Boy, he was hot!
But my schoolgirl crush was centred on his eyes, his smile and the curls that spiralled down his face (I was forever sketching his face into the back of my jotters, or tracing its outline onto the copious amounts of used computer paper my dad used to bring home from work). As I grew up, I noticed his beautiful hands too –especially when he tied tape around his fingertips emphasising every movement –absolutely mesmerising!
I graduated school and college and found myself in the job of my dreams in the big city. It was difficult finding new friends, at first. Sure, there were my workmates, but I never really felt like a city girl and deep down I wasn’t all that comfortable in their company. I was finding out just how lonely the big city could be for a small-town girl.
That was when I discovered Michael Jackson’s website. And, boy, did it reawaken all those old feelings again.
I met others who felt just like me about this superstar. And now, a grown woman, I began to focus on the parts to which, as a schoolgirl, I’d been completely blind –which is amazing really considering the infamous crotch-grabbing, gyrating, grind and thrust central to his whole performance.
I was well and truly hooked and this place was my new home. My one relief from a hard day’s work!
Two: It's aching! Make it feel alright (Off the Wall: Workin' Day and Night) ♪
Things were going crazy, again!
The house was full of people, again!
Everybody wanted a little piece of him, again!
Michael sighed as he walked around his own house. He’d left his manager, the lawyers, some agents and a couple of concert promoters ‘battling’ it out in his library, desperately trying to find some common ground. He was exhausted and had stopped listening. Oh God! He hated going on tour.
He walked past the den where his children were playing with the nanny. He paused at the door and smiled at the scene. Pots of paints, glue, paper, and crayons surrounded the children and each was intent upon their own creation: a collage, a colouring book, a mosaic of sticky paper and pipe cleaners, glitter and ribbon.
Another half-open door revealed a fashion editor, her assistant and a photographer pouring over sheets of negatives of photographs they’d taken earlier that day. Michael had enjoyed their company and the time spent outdoors chatting about the clothes they’d chosen for him and the state-of-the-art equipment they used. They were professionals, like him, dedicated to their own art. They paid attention to the finer details.
But Michael was tired now. He didn’t want to talk. He decided to venture outside and get some fresh air.
Being outside always inspired him to reflect upon the joys of life. His children, of course, his family, and his fans! They meant the world to him. But embarking upon another tour filled him with mixed emotions. He wasn’t young anymore and he’d always hated the idea of growing old. Going on tour filed him with dread. Was he really up to it?
Michael found a quiet spot, not far from the kitchen and sat down and looked out across the lake and the trees beyond. He tried to empty his mind of all the commotion and activity going on indoors. He knew he would have to go back, but not right now. He needed a few minutes just to think -to regain himself.
He’d written and recorded a new album, it was good – not perfect, nothing ever was, but he’d enjoyed the process: hours spent in the recording studio building layer upon layer of sounds, rhythms, melodies and beats. It had taken everything out of him. He desperately wanted the children to share the process with him and get to spend more time together. They loved watching Daddy and they’d never even seem him perform live. But after one too many spilt drinks in the studio and other interruptions he’d decided they were simply too young and, reluctantly, he’d had to say, ‘No more!’
But the creative process was over. It was out of his hands. Now the ‘business’ side of things kicked in –he had to sell his wares -and he hated it.
Michael turned his head when he heard voices coming from the kitchen behind him. Frank was talking to the chef and looking for some coffee and maybe a bite to eat. Michael knew he’d better get back to business.
‘You, okay, Mike?’ Frank asked as he helped himself to a Danish pastry
‘Fine, tired, but okay.’ Michael replied refusing as Frank offered to pour him some coffee.
Frank understood and knew this was hard for Michael. He had just emerged from the creative process. He was still raw with the exhaustion of writing and recording. And now Michael had to endure the onslaught and criticism.
‘The website’s looking great,’ Frank continued trying to change the subject. ‘The fans love it!’
Michael thought about this a moment. He hadn’t really given it much thought before. The record company had really taken control of that one insisting it was merely a ‘marketing’ tool. ‘A place we can sell your ware.’ they had told him. ‘Don’t worry about it, Michael. We’ve got a team of developers here. The place will look after itself!’
Michael pondered Frank’s comment a while longer, ‘Really? It’s good?’ Michael was surprised.
‘You should go see!’ Frank replied. ‘People are really beginning to talk about your comeback. They’re getting excited. Take a look!’
The rest of the day was spent signing contracts and discussing Michael’s work schedule over the coming months. The concert promoters finally left. ‘We are really excited about working with you Michael. The album is amazing and this is really gonna knock the wind outta them!’
Michael smiled, ‘Thanks guys, I’m looking forward to it, too. You’ve been really great.’
They shook hands. Frank was the last to leave. ‘Are you ready for the fight?’ Michael shook his head and smiled wearily.
‘I dunno, Frank. Life’s kinda different now. I’m different. The kids are amazing, Frank.’
‘I know, I know, Mike. We’re not gonna push it like Bad or anything. This is just to show who you are now, you know.’ Frank continued. ‘Your fans are different too, Mike, they’ve grown up with you. They don’t expect Thriller or Bad again. You’ve changed! You’re better. Stronger than before! Really. Get some sleep, Mike. They got you workin' day and night again!’ Frank smiled.
*Wanna Be Startin' Somethin' (Thriller: Wanna Be Startin' Somethin') * ♪
The crowd roared and clamored to get closer. Its eyes were held in rapturous delight the minute he appeared. Each move, every gesture, even the slightest change in his facial expression produced a mass outpouring of emotion. A tidal wave of excitement bore its casualties as bodies were lifted out of the throng and delivered into the arms of waiting medics.
The notes, beats, melodies and rhythms were as visible to Michael as his tantalizing costumes and gravity-defying moves were to his audience. It seemed to him that he could reach out and touch the music with his hand.
He felt alive and free.
Michael paused at one point simply to take in the scene around him. Musician and dancer froze in anticipation of his next move. His pause was prolonged. He enjoyed teasing the audience in this way and it gave him an opportunity to look at them and feel their energy.
The crowd was thunderous and it hollered and growled with hunger. Spell-bound, it chanted his name over and over; Mi-chael, Mi-chael, Mi-chael…
And still he stayed perfectly still.
It was then that he looked up and first laid eyes on her. My God, she was beautiful!
Michael smiled and he wondered if his cyberspace girl would mind the next surprise he had in store.
ONE: You Give Me Fever Like I've Never Ever Known (Bad: The Way You Make Me Feel) ♪
I have been a fan of Michael’s since I was thirteen years old. I can pinpoint the exact moment I fell in love with him during his music video “The Way You Make Me Feel”.
Boy, he was hot!
But my schoolgirl crush was centred on his eyes, his smile and the curls that spiralled down his face (I was forever sketching his face into the back of my jotters, or tracing its outline onto the copious amounts of used computer paper my dad used to bring home from work). As I grew up, I noticed his beautiful hands too –especially when he tied tape around his fingertips emphasising every movement –absolutely mesmerising!
I graduated school and college and found myself in the job of my dreams in the big city. It was difficult finding new friends, at first. Sure, there were my workmates, but I never really felt like a city girl and deep down I wasn’t all that comfortable in their company. I was finding out just how lonely the big city could be for a small-town girl.
That was when I discovered Michael Jackson’s website. And, boy, did it reawaken all those old feelings again.
I met others who felt just like me about this superstar. And now, a grown woman, I began to focus on the parts to which, as a schoolgirl, I’d been completely blind –which is amazing really considering the infamous crotch-grabbing, gyrating, grind and thrust central to his whole performance.
I was well and truly hooked and this place was my new home. My one relief from a hard day’s work!
Two: It's aching! Make it feel alright (Off the Wall: Workin' Day and Night) ♪
Things were going crazy, again!
The house was full of people, again!
Everybody wanted a little piece of him, again!
Michael sighed as he walked around his own house. He’d left his manager, the lawyers, some agents and a couple of concert promoters ‘battling’ it out in his library, desperately trying to find some common ground. He was exhausted and had stopped listening. Oh God! He hated going on tour.
He walked past the den where his children were playing with the nanny. He paused at the door and smiled at the scene. Pots of paints, glue, paper, and crayons surrounded the children and each was intent upon their own creation: a collage, a colouring book, a mosaic of sticky paper and pipe cleaners, glitter and ribbon.
Another half-open door revealed a fashion editor, her assistant and a photographer pouring over sheets of negatives of photographs they’d taken earlier that day. Michael had enjoyed their company and the time spent outdoors chatting about the clothes they’d chosen for him and the state-of-the-art equipment they used. They were professionals, like him, dedicated to their own art. They paid attention to the finer details.
But Michael was tired now. He didn’t want to talk. He decided to venture outside and get some fresh air.
Being outside always inspired him to reflect upon the joys of life. His children, of course, his family, and his fans! They meant the world to him. But embarking upon another tour filled him with mixed emotions. He wasn’t young anymore and he’d always hated the idea of growing old. Going on tour filed him with dread. Was he really up to it?
Michael found a quiet spot, not far from the kitchen and sat down and looked out across the lake and the trees beyond. He tried to empty his mind of all the commotion and activity going on indoors. He knew he would have to go back, but not right now. He needed a few minutes just to think -to regain himself.
He’d written and recorded a new album, it was good – not perfect, nothing ever was, but he’d enjoyed the process: hours spent in the recording studio building layer upon layer of sounds, rhythms, melodies and beats. It had taken everything out of him. He desperately wanted the children to share the process with him and get to spend more time together. They loved watching Daddy and they’d never even seem him perform live. But after one too many spilt drinks in the studio and other interruptions he’d decided they were simply too young and, reluctantly, he’d had to say, ‘No more!’
But the creative process was over. It was out of his hands. Now the ‘business’ side of things kicked in –he had to sell his wares -and he hated it.
Michael turned his head when he heard voices coming from the kitchen behind him. Frank was talking to the chef and looking for some coffee and maybe a bite to eat. Michael knew he’d better get back to business.
‘You, okay, Mike?’ Frank asked as he helped himself to a Danish pastry
‘Fine, tired, but okay.’ Michael replied refusing as Frank offered to pour him some coffee.
Frank understood and knew this was hard for Michael. He had just emerged from the creative process. He was still raw with the exhaustion of writing and recording. And now Michael had to endure the onslaught and criticism.
‘The website’s looking great,’ Frank continued trying to change the subject. ‘The fans love it!’
Michael thought about this a moment. He hadn’t really given it much thought before. The record company had really taken control of that one insisting it was merely a ‘marketing’ tool. ‘A place we can sell your ware.’ they had told him. ‘Don’t worry about it, Michael. We’ve got a team of developers here. The place will look after itself!’
Michael pondered Frank’s comment a while longer, ‘Really? It’s good?’ Michael was surprised.
‘You should go see!’ Frank replied. ‘People are really beginning to talk about your comeback. They’re getting excited. Take a look!’
The rest of the day was spent signing contracts and discussing Michael’s work schedule over the coming months. The concert promoters finally left. ‘We are really excited about working with you Michael. The album is amazing and this is really gonna knock the wind outta them!’
Michael smiled, ‘Thanks guys, I’m looking forward to it, too. You’ve been really great.’
They shook hands. Frank was the last to leave. ‘Are you ready for the fight?’ Michael shook his head and smiled wearily.
‘I dunno, Frank. Life’s kinda different now. I’m different. The kids are amazing, Frank.’
‘I know, I know, Mike. We’re not gonna push it like Bad or anything. This is just to show who you are now, you know.’ Frank continued. ‘Your fans are different too, Mike, they’ve grown up with you. They don’t expect Thriller or Bad again. You’ve changed! You’re better. Stronger than before! Really. Get some sleep, Mike. They got you workin' day and night again!’ Frank smiled.
‘I’ll see you, Monday, Mike.’ They both hugged.
‘Thanks, Frank, I love you.’
Frank’s words had touched him. But, Michael suspected this tour would be the loneliest haul of his life.
THREE: I Can't Help But See You (Off the Wall: I Can't Help It) ♪
Michael closed the door and looked around. 'Alone, at last!' he sighed. The place was quiet now. The children were already in bed and it was getting dark outside. He decided to go up and put on his pyjamas and watch a movie. On his way past the library, he paused and decided to choose a DVD. He had all the latest releases and finally settled on an action adventure. He turned round and looked at his desk, one of his laptops was open and for some reason his movement had knocked off the screen saver. He looked at it as it lit up in the darkening room. The screen and keyboard glowed bright and he remembered what Frank had said about the website.
Settled on his bed, the movie already playing on the giant screen opposite, he opened up the laptop computer. He took a deep breath –he usually avoided going on the Internet as there was so much mean stuff all over the place. He went straight to his own website. 'Ugh!' he recoiled in horror as a multitude of different images of his own face immediately appeared on the index page. He realised they were avatars belonging to different people. He panned across the menu and scrolled through fans’ photos and some concert information. He was pleased it was all up-to-date and seeing the dates of his next concert, now published, actually made him feel quite excited. He disliked looking at images of himself but, aside from that, the web-designers had done a good job. It looked sharp and was user-friendly, on the whole.
He clicked into the forum and nearly choked on his tea.
Hands up, if you'd like to see Michael wear his gold pants again for his next concert –hubba hubba ;-)
Michael's jaw dropped. 'What's with the gold pants?' he gasped. And knowing he probably shouldn’t, he couldn’t resist having a look at what they were saying.
♪
I was becoming an addict and after a long and tiring day at work, I just wanted to lose myself.
It was easy to join in the conversations on the forum feeling as passionate about our idol as they did, and in some ways I felt closer to them than I had ever really felt with my old friends – I mean they were good friends, but I never felt I could really talk about the depth of my feelings for this man.
Having straightened up my little apartment, which I loved because it was right in the centre of things, I would put on my favourite pyjamas, settle into my bed and maybe half-watch a movie. I opened up my laptop and signed in.
Which of Michael's leading ladies do you most imagine yourself to be?
Look at this... I can't believe Michael is such an amazing tap dancer!
Hands up, if you'd like to see Michael wear his gold pants again for his next concert –hubba hubba ;-)
This last topic caught my eye and I couldn’t resist looking further.
Inside, the thread provided a link to another site that showed some racy pictures of Michael wearing his gold pants and judging by the comments I read they were not for the faint-hearted. I typed my own comment.
Should I or shouldn't I? This feels so bad and I don't think I could help it... even if I wanted to.
I added the confused smiley for good measure and then pondered my dilemma.
♪
Michael was of an age where he thought he could be cerebral about these things.
Should I or shouldn't I? This feels so bad and I don't think I could help it... even if I wanted to.
Michael shrieked. 'Oh, girl – don't do it!' He covered his mouth with his hand. He hadn't seen the link, but he had a pretty good idea of what she might see if she went in.
♪
No, I just couldn't do it. Not yet. I was a complete and utter newbie and I had to work my way up to it gradually. I mean, I knew it wasn't as if Michael Jackson would ever find out or anything like that, but I still felt uncomfortable going in at the deep end.
I spent the next few hours engrossed in other threads and chatting quite happily to other fans, but the 'gold pants' link was always at the back of my mind.
Finally, overcome with tiredness, I admitted defeat and decided to call it quits. I said goodnight to the three or four girls I'd been chatting to all evening. I stayed on a bit longer to see their goodnight messages appear and smiled idly to myself.
I was just about to leave when I noticed another message appear from somebody I'd never seen before.
Night night, girl ;-)
'Funny,' I thought, as I stared at the stranger's avatar. 'I've never seen that one before.'
Curious, I wandered into the strangers account. Nothing! It was completely blank and they'd only just joined up. Maybe they'd be back on tomorrow and I signed off and settled down to sleep.
FOUR: You gotta show ‘em that you're really not scared (Thriller: Beat It) ♪
Michael hadn't slept well that night. The coming months filled him with excitement and dread. He hadn't been 'on the road' for several years and a lot had changed in his life: he'd undergone a whole lot of soul-searching, experienced feelings of loss and emptiness as well as ecstasy and pure joy. And he felt like he'd put every last ounce of it into his writing and recording. He was still reeling. It all made him feel more vulnerable and he wondered if he really was prepared for the 'fight' as Frank had put it. 'You have to show them that you're really not scared...' he sang to himself and smiled.
The morning light was beginning to creep through the heavy curtains and as he stretched his arms he glanced at his laptop that was still perched on the bed. He'd enjoyed 'listening in' on his fans' conversations, even though he had felt like an intruder or spy. It was great to know they were getting excited about the concert. Their banter made him smile -he blushed and covered his face with his hands as he recalled some of the more racy comments. It was nice just to listen to normal conversations without feeling his presence made other people feel awkward or embarrassed. It was refreshing. He'd even created an account and posted a reply. He would definitely like to spend more time in there and he resolved to do just that.
He tried to spend as much time as he could with the children that day, but they wanted to play by the pool and he preferred not to spend too much time in the sun – so after being soaked to the skin, twice, he'd decided enough was enough. He finally managed to escape and dry off. On the way back, he grabbed his laptop and found a quiet spot in the shade by the kitchen. The children waved as they each took it in turns to somersault off the diving board into the pool. Michael smiled at the playful scene and thought what it would be like for the children once the show had hit the road. They'd get to see him perform of course which filled him with pride and happiness, but he'd be without them for such long periods. He tried to turn his mind to other things. He should empty his private inbox (family and close friends only) but there were over fifty new messages and he didn't feel like it. He caressed the keyboard upon which he'd written so many lyrics, but for now he wasn't in a creative mood, he was feeling curious: What were they talking about now?
♪
I was feeling a little off-beat. Settling into the big city had been harder than I imagined it would be. I loved my new job and my new home, but still something was missing. I had contemplated going for a walk – I was right in the middle of everything – cinemas, theatres, restaurants galore, but I just wasn't in the mood. Instead I decided to go back online and chat. I was also keen to see who else was going to the same concert as me and maybe arrange to meet there. I was soon pouring out my heart about various aspects of my life, new job, crazy boss, apartment in the big city, bright lights and feeling a little lonely. As ever my buddies were quick to comfort and share their own news with me. I was so busy typing and refreshing the screen to keep apace of things that I didn't notice the stranger's avatar appear straight away.
Hey girl, it's me again
Hey, I thought I recognised your avatar. You were on last night weren't you?'
Sure was. Still finding my feet and not actually used to this kinda thing at all!
Aw don't worry! We'll look after you here. It's a very friendly forum -on the whole. So how long have you been a fan of Michael's? I continued.
I had to wait a few minutes for the reply!
Oh, for as long as I can remember really... My parents introduced me – years ago
Oh really! So they're fans as well? That’s cool!
Oh sure! They love MJ – they got all his records and everything!
I noticed some of my buddies had disappeared into other threads by now, leaving me on my own with the stranger. 'Gee, thanks,' I thought.
FIVE: The City Winks a Sleepless Eye (Thriller: Human Nature) ♪
Michael stood in the middle of his large empty dance studio. Perfectly still, his black patent leather shoes gleamed in the semi-darkness. The music had finished and sweat was pouring down his face and his plain white shirt was drenched. His eyes were closed and he raised his face to the dim artificial light and drew in a long deep breath. His body was rigid but his arms hung loosely by his side. The silence was deafening. He could feel his heartbeat grow louder until its boom seemed to fill all the space around him. He let his fingers click the powerful beat and then let it travel up through his wrist, arm and shoulder until it seemed to stop dead in his chest. He opened his eyes and drew his arms above his head. He felt his voice well up in his stomach and push up through his chest and into his throat until he could suppress it no longer. The sound he made was full of longing and pain and loneliness.
He walked over to the corner of the studio, grabbed a towel and dried his face. He put on his beloved fedora hat and tried to lighten the mood with Sinatra's classic Let's Face the Music and Dance. He smiled and was tempted to dance as the old familiar tune and its scintillating rhythm filled his senses, but he also needed to talk and he hoped she'd be there. They’d gotten to know each other quite well over the last few weeks and he had tried to open up, too, without revealing his identity, of course.
She wasn't there. Or, at least, she didn't seem to have posted anything recently so he decided to leave her a private message.
Hey Girl, it's me
I hope life in the big city is getting better for you and the boss from hell isn't being too mean. Remember what Michael would say, 'If this town is just an apple then let me take a bite.' You shine, girl, and show 'em who you are ☺
I just needed to come on and talk to someone and I was sad you were not here, girl ☹.
Michael continued to pour his heart out, trying hard not to reveal his identity. It was like therapy. For some strange reason he trusted this girl. He put all his faith in her. He told her things he’d never told anybody else. He wondered why to himself, but the beauty of the Internet was that she was just an avatar and she didn’t know who he really was.
It's nice to get it all out! I like it on here - it's an escape for me. Anyway I have to go back and face the hoopla and hullabaloo of life.
And remember, 'The city winks a sleepless eye!' I'm here for you too!
See you soon, girl
He looked at the last four words he had written and wondered.
SIX: I Must Be Dreaming, Can't Be Real (Invincible: Butterflies) ♪
I was literally bouncing off the walls with excitement. There were only days to go before the concert and I was counting every minute. The forum had gone into overdrive
Describe what you’re going to wear!
The Golden Girls petition for a return of the GOLD PANTS!
Who’s meeting up with who? I bumped into my buddy in this particular thread. We’d already established we were going to the same concert as each other, but what he was about to say was going to blow my mind.
Hey girl, I’ve sent you a private message! ☺
Okay
I went into my account and read his message.
Hey, remember I told you I know some of the roadies working on the tour? Well I think I can get the two of us backstage passes! Can you believe that? What do you say, girl?
I stared at the screen in disbelief.
Are you still there?
♪
I wasn’t sure what to think. My head was spinning. Was this guy for real?
It would be a pretty cruel trick to play on someone if he wasn’t serious. However, something told me he was telling the truth.
Without invading each other's privacy, I felt I had really gotten to know this guy. His comments and private messages were always heartfelt and sincere. He would change my mood with the flick of a switch. If I’d had a bad day at work, he made me laugh with his quick-witted jokes and silly messages. Other times, he made me feel sad as he described his feelings of loneliness despite hardly ever being alone. He sometimes talked about the way his children made him feel and that they were his one salvation in an otherwise chaotic world. He would quote from my favourite Michael Jackson songs and that always blew me away. He seemed to know exactly what to say and how to say it.
And I really wanted to meet him. What harm could there be in choosing a busy place to meet up – and, after all, nowhere could be busier than the Michael Jackson concert.
I looked at his question and realised he was still waiting for a reply.
♪
What was happening to me?
Here I was: a grown woman, independent, married to my career, a city girl, strong, feisty… Ha! Who was I trying to kid? Hell, I’d scolded my best friend a few years ago for joining a dating agency. Think about what might happen! I’d told her. You can’t go around meeting strangers. Do you even read the newspapers?
Boy, would she have a field day!
I always played safe. I was conventional. Miss Sensible, they called me. I just didn’t do this type of thing.
But I couldn't suppress my excitement any longer 'And we’ve got backstage passes!' I turned the volume up on my laptop and bounced on my bed like a teenager.
All I gotta say is that I must be dreaming, can't be real…
I sang along with Michael, feeling the butterflies flutter inside my belly.
SEVEN: Let the Madness in the Music Get To You (off the Wall: Off the Wall) ♪
Storm clouds gathered over the city and large droplets had begun to appear on the tiny balcony outside my apartment. ‘Not today,’ I sighed, ‘not today of all days.’ I’d arranged a few outfits on the bed – I needed to be comfortable as we’d be standing most of the day; cool, because no doubt things were going to get very hot; and a little sexy, this was a Michael Jackson concert after all –not to mention the fact that we were going back-stage and may even get a glimpse of the man himself. I finally settled on a pair of close-fitting denim jeans and my favourite black sequined sleeveless top. I wore my hair loose. My black bracelet of sparkly beads and my silver ballet-style shoes completed the look. I kept my make-up to a minimum: most of it was bound to come off anyway. I threw my phone and lip gloss into a tiny black backpack and took a final look at myself in the full-length mirror. I had never felt this excited before.
I was about to meet somebody who felt the same way as I did and we were going to see Michael Jackson!
♪
I eventually found the ticket office, where we’d agreed to meet and I decided to queue right away so I could collect our backstage passes (I was to give our usernames as we’d agreed not to exchange any personal information until we actually met – forever Miss Sensible)
The place was a throng of excited faces; merchandise traders selling t-shirts, scarves, posters and other souvenirs; stern-looking officials, ushers and security guards wearing luminous yellow jackets rummaging through bags and checking tickets; ticket touts trying to dodge the beady eyes of police officers whilst still making their ‘goods’ as obvious as possible.
I kept my eyes open for my friend – he was going to wear his red ‘Beat It’ jacket apparently so he’d be easy to spot. However, by the time I reached the front of the queue I still couldn’t see him, or anyone wearing a red jacket for that matter.
I spoke to the girl behind the window and enquired about the backstage passes. I must admit I was feeling rather dubious about the whole thing –especially now that my friend still hadn’t shown up. She cast me a rather disparaging look. ‘Great,’ I thought, ‘this could be rather embarrassing.’ I’d given her our usernames and waited as she shuffled through a box on her desk. ‘Ah, yeah!’ she said, raising an eyebrow in surprise, ‘Here you are! Your pass! And there’s a note attached. Oh, and if you wait here, security will be with you in a moment.’
‘Security?’ I gasped.
I took the pass and read the note:
Hey, girl – I am so sorry and so disappointed. Something has come up at work and I am needed in the office. PLEASE forgive me!!! Still, I’m glad you’ve got the pass. My friend, Andy (he managed to get it for me!) will look after you. Girl, don’t feel bad for me – I will get to see the show, for sure. But go ahead - ENJOY YOURSELF. I’ll be thinking of you and don’t forget to tell me all about it later! ;-)’
I was crushed. Here I was, holding a back-stage pass for a Michael Jackson concert and I actually felt disappointment that my buddy wasn’t going to be here to share the experience!
♪
Everything from that moment on was a blur. The crowds of excited faces disappeared and were replaced by the more sober faces of frantic technicians and the sweating bodies of roadies anxiously making last minute preparations and final checks. Musicians tuned their instruments and practised a cacophony of chords and melodies. Dancers were stretching and helping each other make last minute fixes to costumes, hair and make-up. Many were deep in thought and seemed to be meditating as they prepared themselves. Everywhere was a hive of activity and busyness. I was led up a flight of stairs into what seemed to be some sort of control room. ‘Ready?’ Andy asked. I nodded, but was too stunned to actually speak. ‘Here you are, madam,’ he continued as he showed me my seat, ‘I’ll see you later.’ I gasped. ‘Thanks!’ and he disappeared. I could see everything from the sea of excited faces all gazing in the same direction to the technicians with their headphones and microphones and a dizzying array of control panels lit up before them. And to my right, perfectly close, the stage.
♪
The crowd roared and clamoured to get closer, its eyes held in rapturous delight the minute he appeared. Each move, every gesture, the slightest change in his facial expression produced an outpouring of emotion. A tidal wave of excitement bore its casualties as bodies were lifted out of the throng and delivered into the arms of waiting medics. The notes, beats, melodies and rhythms were as visible to him as his tantalizing costumes and gravity-defying moves were to the audience. It seemed to him that he could reach out and touch the music with his hand. He felt alive and free.
(See live performance here!)
He paused at one point simply to take in the scene around him. Musician and dancer froze in anticipation of his next move. His pause was prolonged. He enjoyed teasing the audience in this way and it gave him an opportunity to look at them and feel their energy. The crowd was thunderous and it hollered and growled with hunger. It shrieked his name over and over, Mi-chael, Mi-chael, Mi-chael
And still he stayed perfectly still.
It was then that he looked up and first laid eyes on her.
He smiled and wondered if his cyberspace girl would mind the next surprise he had in store.
EIGHT: Keep My Love For Her Locked Deep Inside (Off the Wall: She’s Out of My Life) ♪
’Miss!’ I was mesmerized. My head was spinning. It was everything I had imagined and more.
‘Miss! This way, please!’
I could not take my eyes off the stage and I could see every move he made, every wink at the girls on the front row, and every sparkle in those heavenly eyes. And I could have even sworn he’d looked up and smiled at me.
‘Miss, please! This way!'
I felt a hand grasp my shoulder.
Startled, I turned and noticed Andy was standing behind me. ‘Come on, we haven’t much time.’
Why on earth would he want to pull me away from the show? I wondered, but followed him back down stairs anyway. We walked back along the corridors lined with bundles of thick black wiring until the energy and excitement were palpable. I looked though the scaffolding partly lined with black cloth and to my utter amazement could see the frenzied face of every person on the front row. Then, I heard the unmistakable, smooth, protracted and dulcet opening chords of one of my most favourite songs.
Michael closed the door and looked around. 'Alone, at last!' he sighed. The place was quiet now. The children were already in bed and it was getting dark outside. He decided to go up and put on his pyjamas and watch a movie. On his way past the library, he paused and decided to choose a DVD. He had all the latest releases and finally settled on an action adventure. He turned round and looked at his desk, one of his laptops was open and for some reason his movement had knocked off the screen saver. He looked at it as it lit up in the darkening room. The screen and keyboard glowed bright and he remembered what Frank had said about the website.
Settled on his bed, the movie already playing on the giant screen opposite, he opened up the laptop computer. He took a deep breath –he usually avoided going on the Internet as there was so much mean stuff all over the place. He went straight to his own website. 'Ugh!' he recoiled in horror as a multitude of different images of his own face immediately appeared on the index page. He realised they were avatars belonging to different people. He panned across the menu and scrolled through fans’ photos and some concert information. He was pleased it was all up-to-date and seeing the dates of his next concert, now published, actually made him feel quite excited. He disliked looking at images of himself but, aside from that, the web-designers had done a good job. It looked sharp and was user-friendly, on the whole.
He clicked into the forum and nearly choked on his tea.
Hands up, if you'd like to see Michael wear his gold pants again for his next concert –hubba hubba ;-)
Michael's jaw dropped. 'What's with the gold pants?' he gasped. And knowing he probably shouldn’t, he couldn’t resist having a look at what they were saying.
♪
I was becoming an addict and after a long and tiring day at work, I just wanted to lose myself.
It was easy to join in the conversations on the forum feeling as passionate about our idol as they did, and in some ways I felt closer to them than I had ever really felt with my old friends – I mean they were good friends, but I never felt I could really talk about the depth of my feelings for this man.
Having straightened up my little apartment, which I loved because it was right in the centre of things, I would put on my favourite pyjamas, settle into my bed and maybe half-watch a movie. I opened up my laptop and signed in.
Which of Michael's leading ladies do you most imagine yourself to be?
Look at this... I can't believe Michael is such an amazing tap dancer!
Hands up, if you'd like to see Michael wear his gold pants again for his next concert –hubba hubba ;-)
This last topic caught my eye and I couldn’t resist looking further.
Inside, the thread provided a link to another site that showed some racy pictures of Michael wearing his gold pants and judging by the comments I read they were not for the faint-hearted. I typed my own comment.
Should I or shouldn't I? This feels so bad and I don't think I could help it... even if I wanted to.
I added the confused smiley for good measure and then pondered my dilemma.
♪
Michael was of an age where he thought he could be cerebral about these things.
Should I or shouldn't I? This feels so bad and I don't think I could help it... even if I wanted to.
Michael shrieked. 'Oh, girl – don't do it!' He covered his mouth with his hand. He hadn't seen the link, but he had a pretty good idea of what she might see if she went in.
♪
No, I just couldn't do it. Not yet. I was a complete and utter newbie and I had to work my way up to it gradually. I mean, I knew it wasn't as if Michael Jackson would ever find out or anything like that, but I still felt uncomfortable going in at the deep end.
I spent the next few hours engrossed in other threads and chatting quite happily to other fans, but the 'gold pants' link was always at the back of my mind.
Finally, overcome with tiredness, I admitted defeat and decided to call it quits. I said goodnight to the three or four girls I'd been chatting to all evening. I stayed on a bit longer to see their goodnight messages appear and smiled idly to myself.
I was just about to leave when I noticed another message appear from somebody I'd never seen before.
Night night, girl ;-)
'Funny,' I thought, as I stared at the stranger's avatar. 'I've never seen that one before.'
Curious, I wandered into the strangers account. Nothing! It was completely blank and they'd only just joined up. Maybe they'd be back on tomorrow and I signed off and settled down to sleep.
FOUR: You gotta show ‘em that you're really not scared (Thriller: Beat It) ♪
Michael hadn't slept well that night. The coming months filled him with excitement and dread. He hadn't been 'on the road' for several years and a lot had changed in his life: he'd undergone a whole lot of soul-searching, experienced feelings of loss and emptiness as well as ecstasy and pure joy. And he felt like he'd put every last ounce of it into his writing and recording. He was still reeling. It all made him feel more vulnerable and he wondered if he really was prepared for the 'fight' as Frank had put it. 'You have to show them that you're really not scared...' he sang to himself and smiled.
The morning light was beginning to creep through the heavy curtains and as he stretched his arms he glanced at his laptop that was still perched on the bed. He'd enjoyed 'listening in' on his fans' conversations, even though he had felt like an intruder or spy. It was great to know they were getting excited about the concert. Their banter made him smile -he blushed and covered his face with his hands as he recalled some of the more racy comments. It was nice just to listen to normal conversations without feeling his presence made other people feel awkward or embarrassed. It was refreshing. He'd even created an account and posted a reply. He would definitely like to spend more time in there and he resolved to do just that.
He tried to spend as much time as he could with the children that day, but they wanted to play by the pool and he preferred not to spend too much time in the sun – so after being soaked to the skin, twice, he'd decided enough was enough. He finally managed to escape and dry off. On the way back, he grabbed his laptop and found a quiet spot in the shade by the kitchen. The children waved as they each took it in turns to somersault off the diving board into the pool. Michael smiled at the playful scene and thought what it would be like for the children once the show had hit the road. They'd get to see him perform of course which filled him with pride and happiness, but he'd be without them for such long periods. He tried to turn his mind to other things. He should empty his private inbox (family and close friends only) but there were over fifty new messages and he didn't feel like it. He caressed the keyboard upon which he'd written so many lyrics, but for now he wasn't in a creative mood, he was feeling curious: What were they talking about now?
♪
I was feeling a little off-beat. Settling into the big city had been harder than I imagined it would be. I loved my new job and my new home, but still something was missing. I had contemplated going for a walk – I was right in the middle of everything – cinemas, theatres, restaurants galore, but I just wasn't in the mood. Instead I decided to go back online and chat. I was also keen to see who else was going to the same concert as me and maybe arrange to meet there. I was soon pouring out my heart about various aspects of my life, new job, crazy boss, apartment in the big city, bright lights and feeling a little lonely. As ever my buddies were quick to comfort and share their own news with me. I was so busy typing and refreshing the screen to keep apace of things that I didn't notice the stranger's avatar appear straight away.
Hey girl, it's me again
Hey, I thought I recognised your avatar. You were on last night weren't you?'
Sure was. Still finding my feet and not actually used to this kinda thing at all!
Aw don't worry! We'll look after you here. It's a very friendly forum -on the whole. So how long have you been a fan of Michael's? I continued.
I had to wait a few minutes for the reply!
Oh, for as long as I can remember really... My parents introduced me – years ago
Oh really! So they're fans as well? That’s cool!
Oh sure! They love MJ – they got all his records and everything!
I noticed some of my buddies had disappeared into other threads by now, leaving me on my own with the stranger. 'Gee, thanks,' I thought.
FIVE: The City Winks a Sleepless Eye (Thriller: Human Nature) ♪
Michael stood in the middle of his large empty dance studio. Perfectly still, his black patent leather shoes gleamed in the semi-darkness. The music had finished and sweat was pouring down his face and his plain white shirt was drenched. His eyes were closed and he raised his face to the dim artificial light and drew in a long deep breath. His body was rigid but his arms hung loosely by his side. The silence was deafening. He could feel his heartbeat grow louder until its boom seemed to fill all the space around him. He let his fingers click the powerful beat and then let it travel up through his wrist, arm and shoulder until it seemed to stop dead in his chest. He opened his eyes and drew his arms above his head. He felt his voice well up in his stomach and push up through his chest and into his throat until he could suppress it no longer. The sound he made was full of longing and pain and loneliness.
He walked over to the corner of the studio, grabbed a towel and dried his face. He put on his beloved fedora hat and tried to lighten the mood with Sinatra's classic Let's Face the Music and Dance. He smiled and was tempted to dance as the old familiar tune and its scintillating rhythm filled his senses, but he also needed to talk and he hoped she'd be there. They’d gotten to know each other quite well over the last few weeks and he had tried to open up, too, without revealing his identity, of course.
She wasn't there. Or, at least, she didn't seem to have posted anything recently so he decided to leave her a private message.
Hey Girl, it's me
I hope life in the big city is getting better for you and the boss from hell isn't being too mean. Remember what Michael would say, 'If this town is just an apple then let me take a bite.' You shine, girl, and show 'em who you are ☺
I just needed to come on and talk to someone and I was sad you were not here, girl ☹.
Michael continued to pour his heart out, trying hard not to reveal his identity. It was like therapy. For some strange reason he trusted this girl. He put all his faith in her. He told her things he’d never told anybody else. He wondered why to himself, but the beauty of the Internet was that she was just an avatar and she didn’t know who he really was.
It's nice to get it all out! I like it on here - it's an escape for me. Anyway I have to go back and face the hoopla and hullabaloo of life.
And remember, 'The city winks a sleepless eye!' I'm here for you too!
See you soon, girl
He looked at the last four words he had written and wondered.
SIX: I Must Be Dreaming, Can't Be Real (Invincible: Butterflies) ♪
I was literally bouncing off the walls with excitement. There were only days to go before the concert and I was counting every minute. The forum had gone into overdrive
Describe what you’re going to wear!
The Golden Girls petition for a return of the GOLD PANTS!
Who’s meeting up with who? I bumped into my buddy in this particular thread. We’d already established we were going to the same concert as each other, but what he was about to say was going to blow my mind.
Hey girl, I’ve sent you a private message! ☺
Okay
I went into my account and read his message.
Hey, remember I told you I know some of the roadies working on the tour? Well I think I can get the two of us backstage passes! Can you believe that? What do you say, girl?
I stared at the screen in disbelief.
Are you still there?
♪
I wasn’t sure what to think. My head was spinning. Was this guy for real?
It would be a pretty cruel trick to play on someone if he wasn’t serious. However, something told me he was telling the truth.
Without invading each other's privacy, I felt I had really gotten to know this guy. His comments and private messages were always heartfelt and sincere. He would change my mood with the flick of a switch. If I’d had a bad day at work, he made me laugh with his quick-witted jokes and silly messages. Other times, he made me feel sad as he described his feelings of loneliness despite hardly ever being alone. He sometimes talked about the way his children made him feel and that they were his one salvation in an otherwise chaotic world. He would quote from my favourite Michael Jackson songs and that always blew me away. He seemed to know exactly what to say and how to say it.
And I really wanted to meet him. What harm could there be in choosing a busy place to meet up – and, after all, nowhere could be busier than the Michael Jackson concert.
I looked at his question and realised he was still waiting for a reply.
♪
What was happening to me?
Here I was: a grown woman, independent, married to my career, a city girl, strong, feisty… Ha! Who was I trying to kid? Hell, I’d scolded my best friend a few years ago for joining a dating agency. Think about what might happen! I’d told her. You can’t go around meeting strangers. Do you even read the newspapers?
Boy, would she have a field day!
I always played safe. I was conventional. Miss Sensible, they called me. I just didn’t do this type of thing.
But I couldn't suppress my excitement any longer 'And we’ve got backstage passes!' I turned the volume up on my laptop and bounced on my bed like a teenager.
All I gotta say is that I must be dreaming, can't be real…
I sang along with Michael, feeling the butterflies flutter inside my belly.
SEVEN: Let the Madness in the Music Get To You (off the Wall: Off the Wall) ♪
Storm clouds gathered over the city and large droplets had begun to appear on the tiny balcony outside my apartment. ‘Not today,’ I sighed, ‘not today of all days.’ I’d arranged a few outfits on the bed – I needed to be comfortable as we’d be standing most of the day; cool, because no doubt things were going to get very hot; and a little sexy, this was a Michael Jackson concert after all –not to mention the fact that we were going back-stage and may even get a glimpse of the man himself. I finally settled on a pair of close-fitting denim jeans and my favourite black sequined sleeveless top. I wore my hair loose. My black bracelet of sparkly beads and my silver ballet-style shoes completed the look. I kept my make-up to a minimum: most of it was bound to come off anyway. I threw my phone and lip gloss into a tiny black backpack and took a final look at myself in the full-length mirror. I had never felt this excited before.
I was about to meet somebody who felt the same way as I did and we were going to see Michael Jackson!
♪
I eventually found the ticket office, where we’d agreed to meet and I decided to queue right away so I could collect our backstage passes (I was to give our usernames as we’d agreed not to exchange any personal information until we actually met – forever Miss Sensible)
The place was a throng of excited faces; merchandise traders selling t-shirts, scarves, posters and other souvenirs; stern-looking officials, ushers and security guards wearing luminous yellow jackets rummaging through bags and checking tickets; ticket touts trying to dodge the beady eyes of police officers whilst still making their ‘goods’ as obvious as possible.
I kept my eyes open for my friend – he was going to wear his red ‘Beat It’ jacket apparently so he’d be easy to spot. However, by the time I reached the front of the queue I still couldn’t see him, or anyone wearing a red jacket for that matter.
I spoke to the girl behind the window and enquired about the backstage passes. I must admit I was feeling rather dubious about the whole thing –especially now that my friend still hadn’t shown up. She cast me a rather disparaging look. ‘Great,’ I thought, ‘this could be rather embarrassing.’ I’d given her our usernames and waited as she shuffled through a box on her desk. ‘Ah, yeah!’ she said, raising an eyebrow in surprise, ‘Here you are! Your pass! And there’s a note attached. Oh, and if you wait here, security will be with you in a moment.’
‘Security?’ I gasped.
I took the pass and read the note:
Hey, girl – I am so sorry and so disappointed. Something has come up at work and I am needed in the office. PLEASE forgive me!!! Still, I’m glad you’ve got the pass. My friend, Andy (he managed to get it for me!) will look after you. Girl, don’t feel bad for me – I will get to see the show, for sure. But go ahead - ENJOY YOURSELF. I’ll be thinking of you and don’t forget to tell me all about it later! ;-)’
I was crushed. Here I was, holding a back-stage pass for a Michael Jackson concert and I actually felt disappointment that my buddy wasn’t going to be here to share the experience!
♪
Everything from that moment on was a blur. The crowds of excited faces disappeared and were replaced by the more sober faces of frantic technicians and the sweating bodies of roadies anxiously making last minute preparations and final checks. Musicians tuned their instruments and practised a cacophony of chords and melodies. Dancers were stretching and helping each other make last minute fixes to costumes, hair and make-up. Many were deep in thought and seemed to be meditating as they prepared themselves. Everywhere was a hive of activity and busyness. I was led up a flight of stairs into what seemed to be some sort of control room. ‘Ready?’ Andy asked. I nodded, but was too stunned to actually speak. ‘Here you are, madam,’ he continued as he showed me my seat, ‘I’ll see you later.’ I gasped. ‘Thanks!’ and he disappeared. I could see everything from the sea of excited faces all gazing in the same direction to the technicians with their headphones and microphones and a dizzying array of control panels lit up before them. And to my right, perfectly close, the stage.
♪
The crowd roared and clamoured to get closer, its eyes held in rapturous delight the minute he appeared. Each move, every gesture, the slightest change in his facial expression produced an outpouring of emotion. A tidal wave of excitement bore its casualties as bodies were lifted out of the throng and delivered into the arms of waiting medics. The notes, beats, melodies and rhythms were as visible to him as his tantalizing costumes and gravity-defying moves were to the audience. It seemed to him that he could reach out and touch the music with his hand. He felt alive and free.
(See live performance here!)
He paused at one point simply to take in the scene around him. Musician and dancer froze in anticipation of his next move. His pause was prolonged. He enjoyed teasing the audience in this way and it gave him an opportunity to look at them and feel their energy. The crowd was thunderous and it hollered and growled with hunger. It shrieked his name over and over, Mi-chael, Mi-chael, Mi-chael
And still he stayed perfectly still.
It was then that he looked up and first laid eyes on her.
He smiled and wondered if his cyberspace girl would mind the next surprise he had in store.
EIGHT: Keep My Love For Her Locked Deep Inside (Off the Wall: She’s Out of My Life) ♪
’Miss!’ I was mesmerized. My head was spinning. It was everything I had imagined and more.
‘Miss! This way, please!’
I could not take my eyes off the stage and I could see every move he made, every wink at the girls on the front row, and every sparkle in those heavenly eyes. And I could have even sworn he’d looked up and smiled at me.
‘Miss, please! This way!'
I felt a hand grasp my shoulder.
Startled, I turned and noticed Andy was standing behind me. ‘Come on, we haven’t much time.’
Why on earth would he want to pull me away from the show? I wondered, but followed him back down stairs anyway. We walked back along the corridors lined with bundles of thick black wiring until the energy and excitement were palpable. I looked though the scaffolding partly lined with black cloth and to my utter amazement could see the frenzied face of every person on the front row. Then, I heard the unmistakable, smooth, protracted and dulcet opening chords of one of my most favourite songs.
‘Go on!’ Andy said, ‘He’s holding out his hand for you.’
Without thinking I walked out onto the stage oblivious to the roar of the crowd. I felt as though I had been submerged under water and Michael was my only source of air. I reached out and took his hand.
And then I felt his touch.
I was drowning until he suddenly and powerfully pulled me towards him and slipped his arm about my waist. I could feel his fingers caress my body whilst his eyes looked deep into mine
She’s out of my life
I inadvertently brushed his cheek and marveled at its softness. I slid my hand down his arm and felt every muscle tense and harden.
She's out of my life
He pulled me closer still and I could smell the sweetness of talc mixed with his sweat that was intoxicating.
And I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
His voice was like silk and I could feel the breath of every word land like kisses on my skin.
I don't know whether to live or die.
His hand worked its way up my spine and he began to stroke my hair
And it cuts like a knife.
He stared back at me with eyes so full of longing and despair I thought I would never ever let him go.
She's out of my life.
He moved the microphone away from his lips and brought me in closer still until I could feel every part of him pressed firmly against me.
Then he kissed me.
NINE: How Does It Feel? (Blood On the Dance Floor: Stranger In Moscow) ♪
I was delirious, but as suddenly as the world had seemed to melt away it came back again with a jolt.
Inevitably, the song had to end and all too soon I felt the cold grasp of a stranger’s hand on my shoulder. Momentarily confused, I searched Michael’s eyes for an answer. He pulled me in again and whispered. ‘Hey, girl, don’t worry!’ And his large hands held me fast.
I could have drowned in those brown eyes. I tried to thank him, but I found myself speechless. He winked and I smiled back as I was led off stage.
He looked so forlorn and lonely as he gazed back in my direction that I felt compelled to run and put my arms around him again.
‘Don’t be silly, girl!’ I told myself as reality bit. ‘It’s all part of the show!’
And, suddenly, I was aware of the tumultuous crowd before him.
♪
Through the hullabaloo he could see her, sipping champagne, and looking quite alone. If only he could just get this done with and go over there and talk. He found himself wishing the world would melt away, but photographers and news crews, celebrities and special guests, even his own staff loomed over him all clamouring for his attention.
Mr Jackson. Who is she? Mr Jackson, can you tell us anything about the girl you kissed on stage tonight. Is she your girlfriend?
Nobody seemed to realise, except him, that she was standing just a few feet away all by herself. He was polite and he smiled and posed and answered patiently and attentively. The perfect showman! But he avoided their questions. He didn’t know what to say.
♪
I didn’t feel comfortable. He was perfectly gracious and kind, but the way people were pushing and shoving to get closer made me feel quite uneasy. He looked exhausted after his punishing performance and I could see that he was tired, despite the warmth of his smile. I caught his gaze at one point and was sure I could see weariness and a desperate longing to escape in his eyes. I felt an acute pain and suddenly, aware of the circus surrounding him and not wishing to prolong the spectacle, I turned and quietly slipped away.
It was raining quite heavily now, but I decided to walk a little further before I got the bus back into the city. I walked along the street only half-aware of the dispersing crowds of fans now making their own way home. It had been a fabulous evening: everything I had ever dreamed a Michael Jackson concert would be. And I had even been up there with him, though it didn’t seem real now. People were shouting and laughing and singing all his songs, but for some reason I felt empty and a little sad.
Suddenly, somebody yelled.
‘There he is!’
I watched as a cavalcade of limousines and police motorbikes sped through the scattering crowds of excited faces. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. I watched as the red taillights disappeared into the night, rubbed my arms for warmth and carried on walking.
♪
Michael usually felt low after a show. The natural high that performing to tens of thousands of people combined with sheer exhaustion often left him feeling disappointed. He would usually vent his frustration with his manager and dissect each tiny imperfection: a missed beat; an unexpected pause; a technical glitch. Not tonight. Tonight he thought about her, his cyberspace girl who had crash landed into his life and sent his head spinning.
♪
The cold morning sun created long shadows in the municipal park outside his hotel. He enjoyed watching and sketching the figures he could see going about their everyday affairs: a jogger, a casual stroller, somebody walking the dog. His attention was drawn towards a young couple. He assumed they were a new couple as they smiled at each other playfully and he grabbed her hand rather clumsily. She looked embarrassed but was smiling back at him and took hold of his hand anyway. Frank entered the room. ‘How ya doin’, Mike?’ he inquired. ‘Okay,’ Michael lied. The truth was he hated touring. Apart from being on stage he felt the whole thing was soulless. His staff were nice to him and they made all kinds of things possible, but there was no escaping the relationship was just that - employer and employee.
And wasn’t so much of his life like that? He was smuggled from plane, to car, to hotel, to arena and back again and then they did the same thing all over again the next day. Sometimes he just wanted to scream and get the hell out. But how could he? He had promises to keep.
There was no escape.
The couple in the park had now settled themselves on a bench and appeared to be keeping each other warm.
And how could he tell the girl the truth? How could he ask her on a date? The whole idea was ridiculous. She’d be hunted down and tormented. All her privacy gone in an instant! What kind of life could he offer her -a life like his? The idea made him hiss. The simple fact of the matter was that he couldn’t ask her at all.
He looked at Frank who was busy talking on his phone.
He turned back to look at the couple in the park who had begun kissing each other passionately.
TEN: I Had To Let You Go (Invincible: Don’t Walk Away) ♪
‘So did he turn up, then?’
‘Who?’ I enquired, absent-mindedly.
‘Your mystery friend! I thought you said you were meeting up with someone to go to the Michael Jackson concert.’
I’d forgotten I’d told her actually, having been so used to keeping quiet about anything to do with it. The office could be quite cruel about stuff and some of the banter just put me off saying too much.
‘Oh! No, he didn’t, actually!’
‘Really?’ she pursued. ‘So you went alone? Well that’s charming isn’t it!’
She lost interest after that and turned back to her photocopying.
I hadn’t really given it much thought over the last week or so. I’d been online a few times hoping he’d be there, but he never was. It was all a bit strange really – why would he provide me with a backstage pass, not turn up and then not even bother to ask how the evening had gone? And thinking things through, I had so much to tell him, too. I mean it had turned out to be one of the most extraordinary evenings of my life. I had to tell someone about it. Keeping it hidden all day, everyday, was infuriating. And I really missed our conversations – and nobody in this place was going to fill that hole.
My curiosity was getting the better of me and, although I knew I shouldn’t do it at work, I decided to sneak in and have a look at the forum. Nothing was doing, just a few threads about the concert and some impromptu album signing somewhere, but no sign of my friend.
I had a look in my account and was surprised to see he’d already left a message.
Hey Girl, it’s me
How can I apologize? First of all I didn’t bother to turn up and then I haven’t bothered to explain myself to you either –since then. I’m an idiot. I hope you can forgive me. You have no idea how much I was thinking about you that evening! And afterwards… I really want to know what you thought about the whole evening – tell me what happened – every detail! I wish we could have met up.
Did you get to meet him? Andy says you disappeared early on! WHY? Girl, I want to know what happened to you! He also told me there was another surprise for you that night! What was it? Tell me what happened and what you thought…
So sorry we haven’t been able to talk since. Things have been so busy here - you have no idea, Girl!
Anyway, please, please get back to me, SOON!!
Yours xxx
I breathed a sigh of relief. So he hadn’t dropped off the face of the planet or forgotten about me after all. I looked at his words a little longer. Boy was I looking forward to telling him what the surprise was.
He’d be so…
‘WHAT are you looking at?’ a familiar voice, barked.
I turned round and sure enough there he was: Mr John-headache-from-hell-McEnroe. ‘Oh, nothing, Mr. M… I mean Jones… D-do you want these reports now or shall I leave them on your desk?’
♪
The traffic was worse than usual that evening. And as I carried on walking home I noticed that something quite unusual was going on. People were walking in droves all in the same direction. Was it a power cut? Was public transport down, again?
‘What’s going on?’ I asked a police officer who was trying to direct the crowds.
‘Girl, only Michael Jackson! He’s signing copies of his album at the record store over there.’
‘What? For real?’ He laughed at my response.
‘He’s been in there for over two hours already – where’ve you been?’
And he carried on ushering the crowd forward. I was rooted to the spot.
‘Look, girl! I shouldn’t do this – but if you sneak in over there, you’ll see my mate Harry – tell him Jim sent you over...and… well I’m not promising anything but…Go now, Girl! You’re not going to get a glimpse standing there are you?’
I stumbled and looked at him in disbelief.
‘Th..thanks!’ I stammered, incredulous at his generosity.
I ran over to where Harry was standing. He was guarding a side entrance to the building and I could see several black SUVs parked down a narrow side street. There were no pedestrians here as the whole area had been cordoned off. I cleared my throat and began to speak.
‘Er, Harry?’
‘How did you get here, Madam? And how do you know my name?’
‘Well, er, Jim sent me over to you… he said you may be able to get me in?’
Harry looked at me and his frown softened a little. He looked back at Jim who gave him a thumbs up.
‘Okay. Through here! There’s a shorter queue of people who have been separated from the main crowd – join the end of the queue. Hey - act natural!’
He winked and opened the door for me. I could not believe it. I thanked him as best I could, being totally speechless and all and headed through to join the queue.
Phew! Twice in one week, now that's a fluke.
Christmas shopping was never as frantic as this. People were everywhere I looked: some craning their necks trying to get a glimpse from the tail ends of queues; bodies hanging over the sides of escalators which had been stopped; store security exchanging information over walkie talkies; entertainment broadcasters making live presentations dotted around the store; photographers edging their way forwards and being gently pushed back by men in black suits and shades whom I assumed to be private body-guards.
The noise was like that of a busy airport or train station. The sound of excitable chatter filled the air and was broken only by the desperate screams of waiting fans, ‘MI-KAAAAAL, MI-KAAAAAL!’ Huge cheers would follow these solitary outbursts of raw emotion. Presumably they had set up live television screens in various locations inside and outside as I could hear spontaneous eruptions of jubilation every few minutes.
As I walked forwards I could see huge spotlights that cast a brilliant light on a giant backdrop of enlarged album covers on each of which his face stared out, seducing a crowd already so full of anticipation and excitement. It seemed strange to think that only days ago I had been in the arms of this man on a stage in front of tens of thousands of people.
I began to wonder if he might recognise me. In your dreams, I said, almost aloud.
The queue slowly moved forward and I began to see the urgent activity of people surrounding the star. Someone was shouting, ‘Please remove the insert from your CD box so we can speed things up here!’ I panicked. I had nothing for him to sign. In desperation I rummaged through my handbag and could only find my pocket address book. It would have to do!
And then I felt his touch.
I was drowning until he suddenly and powerfully pulled me towards him and slipped his arm about my waist. I could feel his fingers caress my body whilst his eyes looked deep into mine
She’s out of my life
I inadvertently brushed his cheek and marveled at its softness. I slid my hand down his arm and felt every muscle tense and harden.
She's out of my life
He pulled me closer still and I could smell the sweetness of talc mixed with his sweat that was intoxicating.
And I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
His voice was like silk and I could feel the breath of every word land like kisses on my skin.
I don't know whether to live or die.
His hand worked its way up my spine and he began to stroke my hair
And it cuts like a knife.
He stared back at me with eyes so full of longing and despair I thought I would never ever let him go.
She's out of my life.
He moved the microphone away from his lips and brought me in closer still until I could feel every part of him pressed firmly against me.
Then he kissed me.
NINE: How Does It Feel? (Blood On the Dance Floor: Stranger In Moscow) ♪
I was delirious, but as suddenly as the world had seemed to melt away it came back again with a jolt.
Inevitably, the song had to end and all too soon I felt the cold grasp of a stranger’s hand on my shoulder. Momentarily confused, I searched Michael’s eyes for an answer. He pulled me in again and whispered. ‘Hey, girl, don’t worry!’ And his large hands held me fast.
I could have drowned in those brown eyes. I tried to thank him, but I found myself speechless. He winked and I smiled back as I was led off stage.
He looked so forlorn and lonely as he gazed back in my direction that I felt compelled to run and put my arms around him again.
‘Don’t be silly, girl!’ I told myself as reality bit. ‘It’s all part of the show!’
And, suddenly, I was aware of the tumultuous crowd before him.
♪
Through the hullabaloo he could see her, sipping champagne, and looking quite alone. If only he could just get this done with and go over there and talk. He found himself wishing the world would melt away, but photographers and news crews, celebrities and special guests, even his own staff loomed over him all clamouring for his attention.
Mr Jackson. Who is she? Mr Jackson, can you tell us anything about the girl you kissed on stage tonight. Is she your girlfriend?
Nobody seemed to realise, except him, that she was standing just a few feet away all by herself. He was polite and he smiled and posed and answered patiently and attentively. The perfect showman! But he avoided their questions. He didn’t know what to say.
♪
I didn’t feel comfortable. He was perfectly gracious and kind, but the way people were pushing and shoving to get closer made me feel quite uneasy. He looked exhausted after his punishing performance and I could see that he was tired, despite the warmth of his smile. I caught his gaze at one point and was sure I could see weariness and a desperate longing to escape in his eyes. I felt an acute pain and suddenly, aware of the circus surrounding him and not wishing to prolong the spectacle, I turned and quietly slipped away.
It was raining quite heavily now, but I decided to walk a little further before I got the bus back into the city. I walked along the street only half-aware of the dispersing crowds of fans now making their own way home. It had been a fabulous evening: everything I had ever dreamed a Michael Jackson concert would be. And I had even been up there with him, though it didn’t seem real now. People were shouting and laughing and singing all his songs, but for some reason I felt empty and a little sad.
Suddenly, somebody yelled.
‘There he is!’
I watched as a cavalcade of limousines and police motorbikes sped through the scattering crowds of excited faces. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. I watched as the red taillights disappeared into the night, rubbed my arms for warmth and carried on walking.
♪
Michael usually felt low after a show. The natural high that performing to tens of thousands of people combined with sheer exhaustion often left him feeling disappointed. He would usually vent his frustration with his manager and dissect each tiny imperfection: a missed beat; an unexpected pause; a technical glitch. Not tonight. Tonight he thought about her, his cyberspace girl who had crash landed into his life and sent his head spinning.
♪
The cold morning sun created long shadows in the municipal park outside his hotel. He enjoyed watching and sketching the figures he could see going about their everyday affairs: a jogger, a casual stroller, somebody walking the dog. His attention was drawn towards a young couple. He assumed they were a new couple as they smiled at each other playfully and he grabbed her hand rather clumsily. She looked embarrassed but was smiling back at him and took hold of his hand anyway. Frank entered the room. ‘How ya doin’, Mike?’ he inquired. ‘Okay,’ Michael lied. The truth was he hated touring. Apart from being on stage he felt the whole thing was soulless. His staff were nice to him and they made all kinds of things possible, but there was no escaping the relationship was just that - employer and employee.
And wasn’t so much of his life like that? He was smuggled from plane, to car, to hotel, to arena and back again and then they did the same thing all over again the next day. Sometimes he just wanted to scream and get the hell out. But how could he? He had promises to keep.
There was no escape.
The couple in the park had now settled themselves on a bench and appeared to be keeping each other warm.
And how could he tell the girl the truth? How could he ask her on a date? The whole idea was ridiculous. She’d be hunted down and tormented. All her privacy gone in an instant! What kind of life could he offer her -a life like his? The idea made him hiss. The simple fact of the matter was that he couldn’t ask her at all.
He looked at Frank who was busy talking on his phone.
He turned back to look at the couple in the park who had begun kissing each other passionately.
TEN: I Had To Let You Go (Invincible: Don’t Walk Away) ♪
‘So did he turn up, then?’
‘Who?’ I enquired, absent-mindedly.
‘Your mystery friend! I thought you said you were meeting up with someone to go to the Michael Jackson concert.’
I’d forgotten I’d told her actually, having been so used to keeping quiet about anything to do with it. The office could be quite cruel about stuff and some of the banter just put me off saying too much.
‘Oh! No, he didn’t, actually!’
‘Really?’ she pursued. ‘So you went alone? Well that’s charming isn’t it!’
She lost interest after that and turned back to her photocopying.
I hadn’t really given it much thought over the last week or so. I’d been online a few times hoping he’d be there, but he never was. It was all a bit strange really – why would he provide me with a backstage pass, not turn up and then not even bother to ask how the evening had gone? And thinking things through, I had so much to tell him, too. I mean it had turned out to be one of the most extraordinary evenings of my life. I had to tell someone about it. Keeping it hidden all day, everyday, was infuriating. And I really missed our conversations – and nobody in this place was going to fill that hole.
My curiosity was getting the better of me and, although I knew I shouldn’t do it at work, I decided to sneak in and have a look at the forum. Nothing was doing, just a few threads about the concert and some impromptu album signing somewhere, but no sign of my friend.
I had a look in my account and was surprised to see he’d already left a message.
Hey Girl, it’s me
How can I apologize? First of all I didn’t bother to turn up and then I haven’t bothered to explain myself to you either –since then. I’m an idiot. I hope you can forgive me. You have no idea how much I was thinking about you that evening! And afterwards… I really want to know what you thought about the whole evening – tell me what happened – every detail! I wish we could have met up.
Did you get to meet him? Andy says you disappeared early on! WHY? Girl, I want to know what happened to you! He also told me there was another surprise for you that night! What was it? Tell me what happened and what you thought…
So sorry we haven’t been able to talk since. Things have been so busy here - you have no idea, Girl!
Anyway, please, please get back to me, SOON!!
Yours xxx
I breathed a sigh of relief. So he hadn’t dropped off the face of the planet or forgotten about me after all. I looked at his words a little longer. Boy was I looking forward to telling him what the surprise was.
He’d be so…
‘WHAT are you looking at?’ a familiar voice, barked.
I turned round and sure enough there he was: Mr John-headache-from-hell-McEnroe. ‘Oh, nothing, Mr. M… I mean Jones… D-do you want these reports now or shall I leave them on your desk?’
♪
The traffic was worse than usual that evening. And as I carried on walking home I noticed that something quite unusual was going on. People were walking in droves all in the same direction. Was it a power cut? Was public transport down, again?
‘What’s going on?’ I asked a police officer who was trying to direct the crowds.
‘Girl, only Michael Jackson! He’s signing copies of his album at the record store over there.’
‘What? For real?’ He laughed at my response.
‘He’s been in there for over two hours already – where’ve you been?’
And he carried on ushering the crowd forward. I was rooted to the spot.
‘Look, girl! I shouldn’t do this – but if you sneak in over there, you’ll see my mate Harry – tell him Jim sent you over...and… well I’m not promising anything but…Go now, Girl! You’re not going to get a glimpse standing there are you?’
I stumbled and looked at him in disbelief.
‘Th..thanks!’ I stammered, incredulous at his generosity.
I ran over to where Harry was standing. He was guarding a side entrance to the building and I could see several black SUVs parked down a narrow side street. There were no pedestrians here as the whole area had been cordoned off. I cleared my throat and began to speak.
‘Er, Harry?’
‘How did you get here, Madam? And how do you know my name?’
‘Well, er, Jim sent me over to you… he said you may be able to get me in?’
Harry looked at me and his frown softened a little. He looked back at Jim who gave him a thumbs up.
‘Okay. Through here! There’s a shorter queue of people who have been separated from the main crowd – join the end of the queue. Hey - act natural!’
He winked and opened the door for me. I could not believe it. I thanked him as best I could, being totally speechless and all and headed through to join the queue.
Phew! Twice in one week, now that's a fluke.
Christmas shopping was never as frantic as this. People were everywhere I looked: some craning their necks trying to get a glimpse from the tail ends of queues; bodies hanging over the sides of escalators which had been stopped; store security exchanging information over walkie talkies; entertainment broadcasters making live presentations dotted around the store; photographers edging their way forwards and being gently pushed back by men in black suits and shades whom I assumed to be private body-guards.
The noise was like that of a busy airport or train station. The sound of excitable chatter filled the air and was broken only by the desperate screams of waiting fans, ‘MI-KAAAAAL, MI-KAAAAAL!’ Huge cheers would follow these solitary outbursts of raw emotion. Presumably they had set up live television screens in various locations inside and outside as I could hear spontaneous eruptions of jubilation every few minutes.
As I walked forwards I could see huge spotlights that cast a brilliant light on a giant backdrop of enlarged album covers on each of which his face stared out, seducing a crowd already so full of anticipation and excitement. It seemed strange to think that only days ago I had been in the arms of this man on a stage in front of tens of thousands of people.
I began to wonder if he might recognise me. In your dreams, I said, almost aloud.
The queue slowly moved forward and I began to see the urgent activity of people surrounding the star. Someone was shouting, ‘Please remove the insert from your CD box so we can speed things up here!’ I panicked. I had nothing for him to sign. In desperation I rummaged through my handbag and could only find my pocket address book. It would have to do!
♪
Michael was exhausted. He loved meeting fans face to face like this but he questioned the record company’s timing; he was in the middle of a tour! Still it was always fun and his fans never let him down. He was in awe at the lengths some people had gone to show their support. Tattoos of his face or name in the most intimate of places; fabulous jackets, some bearing his image, others lovingly bejewelled in Swarovski crystals or glittering sequins; amazing, brightly-coloured paintings of himself some of which were presented as gifts; children dressed up in customised outfits depicting one of his numerous signature looks; teddies, cards, bouquets of flowers, jewellery, letters…
Their generosity was overwhelming and surprised him all the time. It was frustrating not to be able to chat for longer, but the military precision of the event allowed no room for any kind of real conversation. Occasionally, he would simply rebel and get up to try and console an upset fan with a huge bear-hug or offer words of comfort. Often he would take contact details so he could thank fans properly for their breath-taking acts of kindness. They were truly his constant source of inspiration and what spurred him on.
He loved them all.
But he was getting tired now and the room had begun to blur around the edges. He tried to keep himself awake by focusing on the music, his own album, and he mouthed the words and bopped to the beat as he signed his gazillionth album cover. He shared jokes with his aide and shrieked with laughter every time someone asked to marry him: he loved all the fun and games. He realised that every time he bopped or moved to the beat a huge cheer would erupt from outside, ‘How can they see me?’ he asked his aide, ‘Oh, there’s a camera just there, Mike.’ And he would do some more straight into the camera to the jubilation of those outside. He was now enjoying himself and had forgotten all about the stress of touring and his tiredness.
He soaked in the atmosphere and looked around the room to see if the queue was getting any shorter.
When he saw her he stopped smiling, totally dumbfounded.
♪
The chatter was only broken by the heart-breaking sobs of a young girl who was led away by a flurry of shop-workers. She was still yelling his name through her tears and I could see Michael was visibly shaken by the event. I could see his eyes mist over as he looked towards the distressed teenager and he whispered a few words to his aide who was sent to check that she was okay.
I wondered how he could possibly cope with such an emotional rollercoaster of events every working day of his life. He carried on signing covers and I was now very close to the front. I couldn’t take my eyes off him and I began to think about what I could possibly say. The queue was moving at quite a pace now and I could tell we were being shepherded along more quickly than before. He’d already been here for several hours and they were now preventing more people from joining the queue much to the noisy protests I could hear beginning to erupt elsewhere in the store.
Suddenly, I felt someone grab my arm and place me in front of him.
I felt my knees begin to buckle and I swallowed hard.
‘I’m sorry I don’t have an album, please could you sign this instead?’
I felt such a fool as I handed him my address book. My address book! What had I been thinking? I noticed his lip curl slightly as he looked back at me. I had to say something.
‘Michael, thank you for an amazing show the other night and for inviting me up on stage with you…’
I looked at him searchingly hoping he’d recognise me. Did he recognise me? He carried on writing, but glanced up at me occasionally.
‘Would you like me to sign a copy of the album?’ he asked.
‘I’m so sorry, I don’t have it with me.’
This was not going well. He turned and whispered to his aide who produced a copy of the album.
‘Oh! Thank you. That is so kind’ I gabbled.
‘Thank you,’ he replied, ‘I was sorry you left in such a hurry.’
‘Sorry?’ I queried.
‘After the concert’ he continued. ‘You left without saying hello.’
‘Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude…’
‘It’s okay!’ he smiled, ‘People were very curious about you afterwards. I mean, I don’t usually…’ This time it was Michael’s turn to blush. I suddenly felt very conscious of all the people listening in.
He signed his name and handed the album over to me.
‘Thank you very much. It was lovely to meet you…again!’
My face was burning as I turned to leave.
Hey, girl!’ he called.
I turned back to see he was now standing.
‘Don’t forget your address book!’
‘Oh! Thank you!’ I stammered and reached out for the book. Our fingers brushed together and for that moment, when I looked into his eyes,<strong> the whole world seemed to disappear again.
ELEVEN: I Can See it in Your Eyes (Invincible: Break of Dawn) ♪
He lay on the large strange bed staring at the ornately decorated ceiling.
He couldn’t sleep, again.
The tour was now well underway, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember which city he was in. He didn’t even try to guess. All he knew was that he was far away from home and far away from his children. He could hear the occasional, ‘Michael, we love you!’ from the street below his room.
He smiled. His guardian angels were still there supporting him. He’d sent down pillows and blankets because he knew they would probably stay there all night ready to see him again in the morning. He would get up early, before it got busy and go and see them. He loved their constant support. They were his companions. The only ones really looking out for him!
It was like that on the forum too. They readily discussed every aspect of his performance in detail and he loved the fact that they put forward their honest opinions about such things as the set list or the lighting or the costumes he’d chosen.
Their enthusiasm spurred him on and he felt like he was amongst friends. Not like the media who just looked to bring him down; not like his own management team for whom almost every decision was motivated by business interests; not even like his aides and confidants who, after all, were colleagues, employees. He trusted them and he loved them, but they were only doing or saying what they thought he would want to hear.
No. His fans were something else. It was their opinion he valued above all else. And he read their comments and participated in their discussions (anonymously, of course) with pure joy in his heart.
And, of course, there was his cyberspace girl! She wasn’t just an avatar or a user-name anymore!
He couldn’t stop thinking about her and he hoped she’d find his phone number in her address book very soon.
♪
I couldn’t stop thinking about Michael Jackson.
He’d kissed me. But was it just part of the act? And when they’d met again, I’d definitely felt something again. But didn’t every fan feel exactly the way?
I tried to explain everything to my buddy on the forum.
You’re kidding me? You asked him to sign your address book? What did he write?
In all my excitement I had forgotten to look. Honestly I could be so dizzy at times.
Hang on…
I grabbed my bag and rummaged around for the book. I opened the cover and promptly fell off my bed.
Call Me! Love Michael ☺ x
♪
Michael sat alone in the completely darkened room and his eyes sparkled as he gazed intently at the screen before him. His hand felt for his phone and he looked quickly to check it was on. Would she call? He smiled and tried to imagine what she might be doing now. Had she found where he’d written his number? Was she about to call him? He looked again at the phone on the table and then began to type in frustration:
Well? What does it say, girl? Don’t keep me in suspense.
It says to call him!
He giggled. He knew this was the mischief-maker in him, but he couldn’t resist playing with her:
What? He asked you to call him?
Yes
Well what are you waiting for? Do it, girl!
What? I can’t just call Michael Jackson. He might be sleeping.
He laughed aloud. She was sweet. He composed himself and tried to think what to write next. He realised he was being a little pushy now, but he was desperate to hear her voice again.
He asked you to call him. If he’s asleep the phone will be switched off. You won’t disturb him.
But I don’t have his number!
LOL you gave him your address book, girl! CALL HIM!
He still didn’t want to reveal himself, but this girl was slow off the mark and needed some directing. She didn’t reply straight away.
♪
I was still in shock, I think, and my hand shook as I fingered the letters down the edge of my address book. ‘J,’ I said aloud and slowly opened the page.
There it was! His name and number. In my address book!
I covered my mouth with my hand and tried to swallow. I blinked and looked back at the screen. My buddy was still waiting for a response.
It’s there! His number is in my book.
Well do it, now! Carpe diem, girl! Lol
He was right. I just had to do it! I’d be a complete and utter fool if I didn’t seize the moment right now!
I picked up my phone and began to key in the numbers. I tried to type with one hand at the same time.
I’m doing it. I’m calling him. OMG! Help me!
But there was no need to panic.
‘Girl, I have been waiting for your call!’
I was immediately soothed and my anxiety transported away. I simply wanted to listen to his voice: deeper than I had expected but full of the familiar softness and accent I knew only too well. Every utterance seemed to course through my body as I sunk deeper into my pillow.
I just wanted to listen to him speak. His excitement was like music and we were soon talking like old friends laughing and gasping at each other’s stories and dreams.
He made me delight once again in my travels around Europe: stumbling upon a hidden amphitheatre off the backstreets of Paris, marvelling at the tactile architecture of Gaudi in Barcelona; strolling around the old streets of Prague and casually wandering into beautiful buildings and discovering the most wonderful orchestras or quartets happily playing to anyone who cared to listen; venturing into a museum of erotica in Copenhagen…
‘Pardon!’ Michael interjected, ‘You visited what kind of museum?’
I giggled at his embarrassment and explained that it was all about the history of erotica and was full of beautiful paintings and sculptures and photographs.
He listened to all my little stories and then spoke about his own travels. He’d seen the most wonderful places, palaces and castles, met with Kings and Presidents, Emperors and Prime Ministers, but how he just longed to discover things for himself.
He dreamed of walking through a park early in the morning just to watch the sunrise, or to wander around a city and discover its hidden gems without the prying eyes and telescopic lenses that followed him everywhere he went and which watched every move he made. He loved to just watch people going about their everyday business completely uninterrupted and fantasized about walking down a street unnoticed.
We spoke like giddy teenagers for hours and although we felt tired and relaxed neither of us wanted to say goodbye.
He sang, playfully, little tunes that just popped into his head and I wondered what they were.
‘Oh just an old song from the old days, the Jacksons…or the Jackson 5, I don’t remember which!’ he mused absent-mindedly.
I confessed to not knowing much about the Jacksons and he said he’d make me a tape.
I felt as though he was whispering sweet nothings into my ear and I was completely smitten.
From feeling like old friends at the start of the call I now felt like we were lovers completely lost in our little dream world.
I barely noticed the sun creep through the curtains and gasped. ‘It’s morning, Michael!’ Unperturbed Michael began to sing again.
‘I don’t want the sun to shine I wanna make love. Just this magic in your eyes and in my heart. I don’t know what I’m gonna do I can’t stop lovin’ you. I won’t stop ‘til break of dawn makin’ love.’
This time it was my turn to blush.
‘Visit me!’ he urged, ‘Come here and visit me! I’m here til the end of the week and I only have two shows in that time… It'll be fun!’ he continued.
‘Pardon?’ I hesitated.
My head was spinning again and suddenly I was quite awake.
TWELVE: You don't have to worry 'cause I'm coming! (Got To Be There: I Wanna Be Where You Are) ♪
‘Miss?’
I started and turned to see a friendly face.
‘Miss, I’m Michael’s driver. I thought you might be his guest, no one else around here fits the description.’
He had a broad Cockney accent and a huge smile and he was holding a card on which my name was printed. ‘Yep, that’s me.’ I smiled back.
‘Hello, my name’s Tom, pleased to meet you!’ he shook my hand. ‘Follow me!’
Tom picked up my bags and led me out of the airport to an SUV parked outside the main doors.
‘Pretty small airport, eh?’ he grinned, ‘Wasn’t difficult to spot you, Miss!’
‘I know, quite a contrast to the one I departed from!’ I replied, ‘Where’s Michael staying, here?’
‘Oh you will love it! It’s outside of the main city, quite close to the old town. He’s only gone and hired a large castle by a lake, Miss! We’re all staying there: dancers, musicians, technicians, personal staff. The lot of us! Some of his friends and family have visited in the last week and his children are coming later this week.
‘Makes a nice change from the usual hotel we’re put in. Don’t get me wrong, we get spoilt rotten, but this is really something else.’
‘Wow! It sounds idyllic.’ I replied.
He put my luggage in the back. ‘So have you been Michael’s driver for long, Tom?’ I continued.
‘Nah! Only for the tour!’ he replied, ‘It’s been great though – I’ve got to know him quite well over the last few months.
‘He is a private person pretty much, but he treats us all really nice. Tells me where he wants to go and I take him. He loves traveling around these parts – sometimes he flies or takes the train and we just make sure his vehicles get to where he needs them.
‘Then of course we get him to and from the venues each night and stuff. But this week has been a lot more relaxed, you know. He only has two shows, so he’s trying to do a bit of sightseeing where he can –it’s not easy though. He gets swamped everywhere he goes, he does.
‘And God knows, he needs to let his hair down though. It’s been a pretty tough schedule up till now.
‘The man’s a genius getting up there and giving it everything each night.
‘And I’ve seen every show to date, Miss! Have you seen it yet?’
‘Yes! It was incredible!’ I replied.
I was trying to listen to everything he said, but my mind was in such a spin I couldn’t take it all in.
Tom was lovely, but I was so nervous about meeting Michael I didn’t really know what to say.
‘I’m sorry Miss! Don’t mind me, I could talk for England, the missus always tells me. We’ll be there in about 30 minutes. You get some shut-eye.’
It was impossible to sleep. I tried to relax, but I was far too excited. Instead, I settled back into the comfortable seat and gazed out of the window. The small airport soon disappeared from view and was replaced by gently rolling hills covered in a patchwork of greens and yellows dotted with animals and small forests here and there. The sun was beginning to set and it cast the most beautiful golden glow around the clouds that hung majestically in the darkening sky. We turned onto a country lane full of twists and turns and overshadowed by great old gnarled oak and sycamore trees.
Eventually we came to a small town, which I could tell was quite medieval.
‘Thirteenth Century many of these old buildings, here, Miss!’ Tom piped up. ‘An old fortress town would you Adam and Eve?’
‘Sorry?’ I asked.
‘Adam and Eve –believe! Sorry, Miss.’ He laughed heartily. ‘Michael’s always asking me about Cockney rhyming slang. He loves it. I use it all the time without thinking.’
Michael was exhausted. He loved meeting fans face to face like this but he questioned the record company’s timing; he was in the middle of a tour! Still it was always fun and his fans never let him down. He was in awe at the lengths some people had gone to show their support. Tattoos of his face or name in the most intimate of places; fabulous jackets, some bearing his image, others lovingly bejewelled in Swarovski crystals or glittering sequins; amazing, brightly-coloured paintings of himself some of which were presented as gifts; children dressed up in customised outfits depicting one of his numerous signature looks; teddies, cards, bouquets of flowers, jewellery, letters…
Their generosity was overwhelming and surprised him all the time. It was frustrating not to be able to chat for longer, but the military precision of the event allowed no room for any kind of real conversation. Occasionally, he would simply rebel and get up to try and console an upset fan with a huge bear-hug or offer words of comfort. Often he would take contact details so he could thank fans properly for their breath-taking acts of kindness. They were truly his constant source of inspiration and what spurred him on.
He loved them all.
But he was getting tired now and the room had begun to blur around the edges. He tried to keep himself awake by focusing on the music, his own album, and he mouthed the words and bopped to the beat as he signed his gazillionth album cover. He shared jokes with his aide and shrieked with laughter every time someone asked to marry him: he loved all the fun and games. He realised that every time he bopped or moved to the beat a huge cheer would erupt from outside, ‘How can they see me?’ he asked his aide, ‘Oh, there’s a camera just there, Mike.’ And he would do some more straight into the camera to the jubilation of those outside. He was now enjoying himself and had forgotten all about the stress of touring and his tiredness.
He soaked in the atmosphere and looked around the room to see if the queue was getting any shorter.
When he saw her he stopped smiling, totally dumbfounded.
♪
The chatter was only broken by the heart-breaking sobs of a young girl who was led away by a flurry of shop-workers. She was still yelling his name through her tears and I could see Michael was visibly shaken by the event. I could see his eyes mist over as he looked towards the distressed teenager and he whispered a few words to his aide who was sent to check that she was okay.
I wondered how he could possibly cope with such an emotional rollercoaster of events every working day of his life. He carried on signing covers and I was now very close to the front. I couldn’t take my eyes off him and I began to think about what I could possibly say. The queue was moving at quite a pace now and I could tell we were being shepherded along more quickly than before. He’d already been here for several hours and they were now preventing more people from joining the queue much to the noisy protests I could hear beginning to erupt elsewhere in the store.
Suddenly, I felt someone grab my arm and place me in front of him.
I felt my knees begin to buckle and I swallowed hard.
‘I’m sorry I don’t have an album, please could you sign this instead?’
I felt such a fool as I handed him my address book. My address book! What had I been thinking? I noticed his lip curl slightly as he looked back at me. I had to say something.
‘Michael, thank you for an amazing show the other night and for inviting me up on stage with you…’
I looked at him searchingly hoping he’d recognise me. Did he recognise me? He carried on writing, but glanced up at me occasionally.
‘Would you like me to sign a copy of the album?’ he asked.
‘I’m so sorry, I don’t have it with me.’
This was not going well. He turned and whispered to his aide who produced a copy of the album.
‘Oh! Thank you. That is so kind’ I gabbled.
‘Thank you,’ he replied, ‘I was sorry you left in such a hurry.’
‘Sorry?’ I queried.
‘After the concert’ he continued. ‘You left without saying hello.’
‘Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude…’
‘It’s okay!’ he smiled, ‘People were very curious about you afterwards. I mean, I don’t usually…’ This time it was Michael’s turn to blush. I suddenly felt very conscious of all the people listening in.
He signed his name and handed the album over to me.
‘Thank you very much. It was lovely to meet you…again!’
My face was burning as I turned to leave.
Hey, girl!’ he called.
I turned back to see he was now standing.
‘Don’t forget your address book!’
‘Oh! Thank you!’ I stammered and reached out for the book. Our fingers brushed together and for that moment, when I looked into his eyes,<strong> the whole world seemed to disappear again.
ELEVEN: I Can See it in Your Eyes (Invincible: Break of Dawn) ♪
He lay on the large strange bed staring at the ornately decorated ceiling.
He couldn’t sleep, again.
The tour was now well underway, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember which city he was in. He didn’t even try to guess. All he knew was that he was far away from home and far away from his children. He could hear the occasional, ‘Michael, we love you!’ from the street below his room.
He smiled. His guardian angels were still there supporting him. He’d sent down pillows and blankets because he knew they would probably stay there all night ready to see him again in the morning. He would get up early, before it got busy and go and see them. He loved their constant support. They were his companions. The only ones really looking out for him!
It was like that on the forum too. They readily discussed every aspect of his performance in detail and he loved the fact that they put forward their honest opinions about such things as the set list or the lighting or the costumes he’d chosen.
Their enthusiasm spurred him on and he felt like he was amongst friends. Not like the media who just looked to bring him down; not like his own management team for whom almost every decision was motivated by business interests; not even like his aides and confidants who, after all, were colleagues, employees. He trusted them and he loved them, but they were only doing or saying what they thought he would want to hear.
No. His fans were something else. It was their opinion he valued above all else. And he read their comments and participated in their discussions (anonymously, of course) with pure joy in his heart.
And, of course, there was his cyberspace girl! She wasn’t just an avatar or a user-name anymore!
He couldn’t stop thinking about her and he hoped she’d find his phone number in her address book very soon.
♪
I couldn’t stop thinking about Michael Jackson.
He’d kissed me. But was it just part of the act? And when they’d met again, I’d definitely felt something again. But didn’t every fan feel exactly the way?
I tried to explain everything to my buddy on the forum.
You’re kidding me? You asked him to sign your address book? What did he write?
In all my excitement I had forgotten to look. Honestly I could be so dizzy at times.
Hang on…
I grabbed my bag and rummaged around for the book. I opened the cover and promptly fell off my bed.
Call Me! Love Michael ☺ x
♪
Michael sat alone in the completely darkened room and his eyes sparkled as he gazed intently at the screen before him. His hand felt for his phone and he looked quickly to check it was on. Would she call? He smiled and tried to imagine what she might be doing now. Had she found where he’d written his number? Was she about to call him? He looked again at the phone on the table and then began to type in frustration:
Well? What does it say, girl? Don’t keep me in suspense.
It says to call him!
He giggled. He knew this was the mischief-maker in him, but he couldn’t resist playing with her:
What? He asked you to call him?
Yes
Well what are you waiting for? Do it, girl!
What? I can’t just call Michael Jackson. He might be sleeping.
He laughed aloud. She was sweet. He composed himself and tried to think what to write next. He realised he was being a little pushy now, but he was desperate to hear her voice again.
He asked you to call him. If he’s asleep the phone will be switched off. You won’t disturb him.
But I don’t have his number!
LOL you gave him your address book, girl! CALL HIM!
He still didn’t want to reveal himself, but this girl was slow off the mark and needed some directing. She didn’t reply straight away.
♪
I was still in shock, I think, and my hand shook as I fingered the letters down the edge of my address book. ‘J,’ I said aloud and slowly opened the page.
There it was! His name and number. In my address book!
I covered my mouth with my hand and tried to swallow. I blinked and looked back at the screen. My buddy was still waiting for a response.
It’s there! His number is in my book.
Well do it, now! Carpe diem, girl! Lol
He was right. I just had to do it! I’d be a complete and utter fool if I didn’t seize the moment right now!
I picked up my phone and began to key in the numbers. I tried to type with one hand at the same time.
I’m doing it. I’m calling him. OMG! Help me!
But there was no need to panic.
‘Girl, I have been waiting for your call!’
I was immediately soothed and my anxiety transported away. I simply wanted to listen to his voice: deeper than I had expected but full of the familiar softness and accent I knew only too well. Every utterance seemed to course through my body as I sunk deeper into my pillow.
I just wanted to listen to him speak. His excitement was like music and we were soon talking like old friends laughing and gasping at each other’s stories and dreams.
He made me delight once again in my travels around Europe: stumbling upon a hidden amphitheatre off the backstreets of Paris, marvelling at the tactile architecture of Gaudi in Barcelona; strolling around the old streets of Prague and casually wandering into beautiful buildings and discovering the most wonderful orchestras or quartets happily playing to anyone who cared to listen; venturing into a museum of erotica in Copenhagen…
‘Pardon!’ Michael interjected, ‘You visited what kind of museum?’
I giggled at his embarrassment and explained that it was all about the history of erotica and was full of beautiful paintings and sculptures and photographs.
He listened to all my little stories and then spoke about his own travels. He’d seen the most wonderful places, palaces and castles, met with Kings and Presidents, Emperors and Prime Ministers, but how he just longed to discover things for himself.
He dreamed of walking through a park early in the morning just to watch the sunrise, or to wander around a city and discover its hidden gems without the prying eyes and telescopic lenses that followed him everywhere he went and which watched every move he made. He loved to just watch people going about their everyday business completely uninterrupted and fantasized about walking down a street unnoticed.
We spoke like giddy teenagers for hours and although we felt tired and relaxed neither of us wanted to say goodbye.
He sang, playfully, little tunes that just popped into his head and I wondered what they were.
‘Oh just an old song from the old days, the Jacksons…or the Jackson 5, I don’t remember which!’ he mused absent-mindedly.
I confessed to not knowing much about the Jacksons and he said he’d make me a tape.
I felt as though he was whispering sweet nothings into my ear and I was completely smitten.
From feeling like old friends at the start of the call I now felt like we were lovers completely lost in our little dream world.
I barely noticed the sun creep through the curtains and gasped. ‘It’s morning, Michael!’ Unperturbed Michael began to sing again.
‘I don’t want the sun to shine I wanna make love. Just this magic in your eyes and in my heart. I don’t know what I’m gonna do I can’t stop lovin’ you. I won’t stop ‘til break of dawn makin’ love.’
This time it was my turn to blush.
‘Visit me!’ he urged, ‘Come here and visit me! I’m here til the end of the week and I only have two shows in that time… It'll be fun!’ he continued.
‘Pardon?’ I hesitated.
My head was spinning again and suddenly I was quite awake.
TWELVE: You don't have to worry 'cause I'm coming! (Got To Be There: I Wanna Be Where You Are) ♪
‘Miss?’
I started and turned to see a friendly face.
‘Miss, I’m Michael’s driver. I thought you might be his guest, no one else around here fits the description.’
He had a broad Cockney accent and a huge smile and he was holding a card on which my name was printed. ‘Yep, that’s me.’ I smiled back.
‘Hello, my name’s Tom, pleased to meet you!’ he shook my hand. ‘Follow me!’
Tom picked up my bags and led me out of the airport to an SUV parked outside the main doors.
‘Pretty small airport, eh?’ he grinned, ‘Wasn’t difficult to spot you, Miss!’
‘I know, quite a contrast to the one I departed from!’ I replied, ‘Where’s Michael staying, here?’
‘Oh you will love it! It’s outside of the main city, quite close to the old town. He’s only gone and hired a large castle by a lake, Miss! We’re all staying there: dancers, musicians, technicians, personal staff. The lot of us! Some of his friends and family have visited in the last week and his children are coming later this week.
‘Makes a nice change from the usual hotel we’re put in. Don’t get me wrong, we get spoilt rotten, but this is really something else.’
‘Wow! It sounds idyllic.’ I replied.
He put my luggage in the back. ‘So have you been Michael’s driver for long, Tom?’ I continued.
‘Nah! Only for the tour!’ he replied, ‘It’s been great though – I’ve got to know him quite well over the last few months.
‘He is a private person pretty much, but he treats us all really nice. Tells me where he wants to go and I take him. He loves traveling around these parts – sometimes he flies or takes the train and we just make sure his vehicles get to where he needs them.
‘Then of course we get him to and from the venues each night and stuff. But this week has been a lot more relaxed, you know. He only has two shows, so he’s trying to do a bit of sightseeing where he can –it’s not easy though. He gets swamped everywhere he goes, he does.
‘And God knows, he needs to let his hair down though. It’s been a pretty tough schedule up till now.
‘The man’s a genius getting up there and giving it everything each night.
‘And I’ve seen every show to date, Miss! Have you seen it yet?’
‘Yes! It was incredible!’ I replied.
I was trying to listen to everything he said, but my mind was in such a spin I couldn’t take it all in.
Tom was lovely, but I was so nervous about meeting Michael I didn’t really know what to say.
‘I’m sorry Miss! Don’t mind me, I could talk for England, the missus always tells me. We’ll be there in about 30 minutes. You get some shut-eye.’
It was impossible to sleep. I tried to relax, but I was far too excited. Instead, I settled back into the comfortable seat and gazed out of the window. The small airport soon disappeared from view and was replaced by gently rolling hills covered in a patchwork of greens and yellows dotted with animals and small forests here and there. The sun was beginning to set and it cast the most beautiful golden glow around the clouds that hung majestically in the darkening sky. We turned onto a country lane full of twists and turns and overshadowed by great old gnarled oak and sycamore trees.
Eventually we came to a small town, which I could tell was quite medieval.
‘Thirteenth Century many of these old buildings, here, Miss!’ Tom piped up. ‘An old fortress town would you Adam and Eve?’
‘Sorry?’ I asked.
‘Adam and Eve –believe! Sorry, Miss.’ He laughed heartily. ‘Michael’s always asking me about Cockney rhyming slang. He loves it. I use it all the time without thinking.’
I laughed aloud as I tried to imagine Michael speaking with a Cockney accent. Tom smiled in the rear view mirror. ‘Here we are, Miss! You’ll see the castle just round this bend!’
The castle stood proud against the most spectacular sunset I had ever seen. Its turrets and towers silhouetted against thick lines of gold, crimson and pink. I held my breath as I tried to take in the magnificence of the scene before me. Behind the castle a lake sparkled in the evening sun and a shadowy forest lay beyond.
The car slowly rolled over the gravel forecourt and Tom parked alongside a fleet of other SUVs. A large tour bus was parked further away from the castle. My shock must have amused Tom, as he smiled when he opened the door for me.
‘Not bad, eh?’ he chirped.
‘I’ll say. This is unbelievable!’ I really was lost for words.
‘I know!’ Tom continued, ‘we’ll be sorry to leave this place. It’s been a kind of holiday for all of us – a sanctuary. Come on, Miss, leave your bags to me and we’ll find Mike. He’ll want to show you around.’
♪
Michael stood by the edge of the lake marvelling at the colours in the sky. He was sure he had never seen such deep reds and pinks. It was a sight to behold.
His thoughts turned to his guest and he wondered if she was here yet. He set off towards the front of the castle to find out.
He smiled when he saw her. ‘Hello, stranger!’ he called as he approached her, ‘Tom got you here safe and sound I see.’
‘Safe as houses!’ said Tom, ‘I’ll take the bags in. Do you need me again this evening, Mike?’
‘No, Tom, take the rest of the evening off and go and enjoy yourself. I’m not planning on going anywhere in the morning either, so have a lie in.’
‘Excellent!’ said Tom rubbing his hands together, ‘I’m meeting some of the others in town for a pint. Dos cervezas, por favor? How’s my accent?’
‘Terrible, Tom, stick to the Cockney,’ laughed Michael.
‘Adios, Michael! Have fun, Miss!’ Tom called as he disappeared into the castle.
‘Bye, Tom! And thanks for the lesson in rhyming slang!’ I called over.
Michael raised his brow. ‘So, he’s been teaching you already, huh?’
‘You'd better Adam and Eve it!’
They both laughed and walked towards the lake.
Her face reflected the colour of the sunset and her smiling eyes sparkled like the lake. She broke his gaze and surveyed her surroundings.
‘Michael, this is stunning. Thank you for inviting me here. I feel very lucky.’ Michael smiled.
‘I’m glad you could come. It’s nice to see you again – in a slightly quieter environment.’
They smiled at each other.
‘Come on!’ he said softly, ‘Let’s watch the sunset until it disappears. Honestly, this place has never looked as beautiful as it does this evening.’
And he was pleased she was here to share it with him.
PART 2
She tried to finish the poem but failed miserably. The words on the page blurred and then disappeared all together. Now Michael was the poet and her body and her mind the blank page waiting to be filled. His fingers pressed into her flesh, heavy and obstinate like nouns. His large hands held her fast controlling the rhythm and form of her body, not letting any part of her escape his notice. His kisses swept over her like playful verbs teasing and dancing. He whispered sweet nothings that landed on her skin like butterflies and filled her head full of imagery that sent her mind spinning. Like a deep-sea diver he swam in her ocean searching for that elusive pearl. He found it overflowing and lustrous bright and he emerged triumphant gasping for air. But seeing her tremble and reel with exhaustion he immediately covered her with his warmth and love and he held her body close to his with a vice-like grip.
ONE: Upside down, boy you turn me (Upside Down, Diana Ross: Motown 50) ♬
Courtly lovers, servants and hunters were dressed in the most flamboyant costumes of deep burgundy, blood red and regal blue. Greyhounds stood obediently at their masters’ heel whilst wild white horses had to be restrained by men bearing spears. Nobody flinched. They stood quite still before the most magnificent fortress: a walled city of turrets and towers adorned with flags and colourful banners. Rolling hills, vines laden with fruit and a Mediterranean blue sky framed the perfect scene. I blinked, suddenly aware of what I was looking at: a tapestry that covered the entire wall beside my bed. I sat upright and tried to familiarise myself with my strange environment. The room was full of the most exquisite furniture. The windows were completely hidden behind the heaviest drapes of rich red fabric. The walls were covered in a dizzying array of paintings and tapestries of different eras. I looked back at the one beside my bed and wondered if the walled city was the same one I’d passed through yesterday.
And then it dawned on me. This wasn’t any old castle. This was his castle –at least for this week anyway. And I was his guest. I shot out of bed and went to look out of the window. I threw back the drapes and gasped. I had the most stunning view of the lake reflecting the morning sun and blue sky. To the right and just visible over the treetops I could just see the towers and turrets of the old town. It was most definitely the town depicted in my tapestry.
After a leisurely breakfast with Tom, Andy and some of the roadies, I decided to explore the castle. During our stroll around the grounds the previous evening I’d discovered Michael was an encyclopaedia of information. He was fascinated by wars and conquests and this place was steeped in a tradition of battles and siege. He told me that part of the reason for hiring the castle was to give his staff a much needed break, but it was also partly selfish as he’d always wanted to do some sight-seeing in this particular region and his tour had provided the perfect opportunity. He’d traveled here by train and devoured all the history books he could find. I was impressed by his knowledge of the castle’s inhabitants over the centuries many of whom had met with a particularly bloody or dismal death. He pointed out which parts of the castle had been built in the twelfth century and which parts had been added later. I couldn’t wait to explore it this morning and as Michael normally breakfasted by himself, I had some time to kill.
The place was a catacomb of corridors and hidden staircases filled with old suits of armour and dusty oil paintings depicting men of war at various stages of their conquests. Some stood proud in military regalia surveying their hard-won land, others were victorious as they thrust swords into the dying bodies of their defeated enemies. Others were mounted upon absurdly huge wild-eyed horses. I walked through rooms filled with the spoils of war and riches successive generations had acquired. They were beautifully preserved and everywhere was evidence of more recent additions.
I entered a library filled floor to ceiling with shelves of red and green leather-bound volumes. This in turn led to a drawing room and beyond another sitting room that seemed to lead out to the garden and lake. I was just about to turn back to take a closer look at the library when I heard the most peculiar noises coming from the sitting room. As I neared the room I recognised the familiar sound of Michael’s voice. He was singing or to be more precise exercising his voice. I stood in the doorway, hoping he wouldn’t mind my intrusion. He carried on for a while and then began having a conversation with somebody which was strange because I couldn’t see anyone else in the room. It dawned on me that he was receiving instructions over a speaker-phone. His voice coach was playing notes on a piano and prompting Michael to sing arpeggios and scales. When Michael noticed me standing there he beckoned me in. He carried on smiling whilst he tried to concentrate, but my presence must have embarrassed him and he giggled. ‘Are you listening, Michael? That was all wrong,’ his voice coach admonished. ‘Sorry, Seth, I’m listening.’ He gave me a sheepish grin and carried on with the exercises. ‘Now, Michael, do you need to be fully open?' Seth asked. ‘Yes!’ Michael replied. He smiled at my quizzical expression. Seth proceeded to train Michael’s voice. The sound was quite breathtaking. He went from baritone to high pitches and falsetto whilst Seth encouraged him to sing different vowel sounds and vary the pitch and pace of the notes he was singing. Even though he was simply singing random words and letters, the sounds he made were the most beautiful I had ever heard. ( listen here)
By now the sun was high in the sky and the whole room was bathed in its heat and light. I smiled as Michael danced and bopped to his voice exercises, but had to resist the urge to giggle when he grinned back at me or pulled a silly face. I was still mesmerized and hardly aware the session had ended when Michael came and joined me on the sofa. He smiled at me and with eyes that sparkled in the sun asked, ’So, I’m yours for the rest of the day. What shall we do?’
I had to pinch myself. ‘Am I dreaming, Michael?’ Everything seemed too perfect. He smiled and playfully pinched my arm, ‘Of course not, silly!’
‘I just don’t get it!’ I continued, ‘First of all my buddy gets me a backstage pass to your concert. Then I’m on stage dancing with you. Then you give me your number and invite me here to stay in this beautiful castle!’ A strange thought crossed my mind, ‘Do you actually know my buddy, Michael?’ He looked straight back at me,
‘Who? What are you talking about?’
‘My buddy!’ I continued, ‘I met him on your website.’
‘You met a complete stranger on the internet? What’s his name?’ Michael asked. I could tell he was playing games with me.
‘He’s not a complete stranger. In fact we know each other quite well, but I, er, I don’t know his name.
He got me a backstage pass to your concert. He knows Andy!’ Two could play at this game.
‘You don’t know his name? He could be anybody! Maybe, it is Andy.’ Michael suggested.
‘But surely he would have told me!’ I was beginning to feel a little silly and embarrassed about the conversation. I felt a twinge of guilt that I hadn’t actually spoken to my buddy since I left home and resolved to write him a private message later that day. A thought crossed my mind, but I shook it away.
‘Look we’re wasting a beautiful day.’ Michael said, ‘Let’s go outside!’ He took my hand and led me towards the French doors and out into the sun-drenched garden.
♬
How could she not have guessed that he was her buddy? Michael couldn’t believe she had not yet put two and two together. Or maybe she had guessed and just didn’t want to say anything yet. He decided he’d wait a little longer before saying anything himself. It was like a little secret game; a role-play. Maybe she did know, maybe she didn’t know. Either way he’d have fun playing along with it a little longer.
Now his session with Seth was over he felt relaxed and ready to enjoy the next three days before he had another show. He wanted to have fun and she was like an old friend now –even if she, herself, didn’t know it yet. He smiled to himself as he held her hand and led her out into the garden.
♬
The sun was high in the sky and by now beginning to really burn. Michael looked cool and crisp in his white shirt and black fedora hat, but by the time we’d reached the other side of the lake, even he was beginning to complain about the heat. We looked out across the lake holding our breath as an occasional breeze rolled across its surface. I looked behind me into the forest, ‘I wonder whose wood that is?’ I had assumed it belonged to the castle but a fence ran between it and the path we were walking. Michael’s eyes followed my gaze. The wood looked dark and deep and the coolness it promised was difficult to resist. Michael must have thought the same thing because we both ran towards the fence and like trespassers clambered over, eager to cool off in the shade.
‘Whose woods are these I think I know!’ Michael sang.(Stopping by Woods)
‘Is that a song, Michael?’
‘No,’ he smiled at me, ‘It’s a poem. Robert Frost. Have you heard of him?’
‘A little.’ I replied, ‘He wrote something about a wall, didn’t he?’
‘Yes, Mending Wall!’ he replied, ‘President Kennedy’s favourite poem.’ (Mending Wall)
‘So you love history and poetry?’ I enquired.
‘I love reading anything. But, yes I love poetry. It inspires me. I love how words can transport you.
Quite literally take you to another place. Poems lift us out of ourselves.’ He stretched out his arms and breathed in the cool air. I was struggling to keep up with his pace. He turned back towards me.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked.
‘I’m fine, but you walk so fast.’
‘I’m sorry!’ he replied, ‘I’m so used to walking by myself. It’s nice to have company. Here.’ He stopped and held out his hand for me.
‘Thanks!’ I tried to remain cool as we scrambled hand-in-hand through the dense forest, but my insides were turning cartwheels.
TWO: So let me hold you tight and share a killer, thriller Ooow! (Thrill Her!) ♬
I was completely oblivious to where we were going so I took the opportunity to think about the moment. I was curious as to why he seemed to like me. Was he lonely and I’d just happened to be in the right place at the right time? He seemed so cool and sure of himself. He could have any girl he wanted. What was he doing holding the hand of a relative stranger? I was simply one of millions of other fans: just an ordinary girl who had been in love with his music, his performances, photographs, in fact, everything about him for years. Michael was walking fast and I had to almost run to keep up with him. I stumbled. ‘Michael!’ I suddenly stopped. ‘Please tell me what’s going on here?’ I don’t know what came over me, but I suddenly felt weak with confusion. ‘Sorry?’ he queried. ‘Where are we going?’ I wondered. And then boldly added, ‘Where are you taking me?’ Michael’s expression changed. He looked confused, ‘I dunno. I just needed to get away from everything. I wanted to just… walk with you.’ ‘Are you running away?’ I asked. He shrugged, ‘I dunno. Sometimes I want to… escape. I just feel this irresistible urge to keep going… I like holding your hand.’
I tried to smile, but I still felt wracked with confusion. ‘Michael, you must know I am head over heels in love with you.’ I gabbled. ‘Like millions of other girls.’ I didn’t know what had come over me. ‘I was just curious as to…’ Michael put his finger on my lips and moved closer. His eyes looked over my head and he paused as if he had something difficult to say. He took a deep breath, ‘You know I like you… and I hope you like me… the way I like you...’ I cracked up with laughter and suddenly felt silly for having been so serious. ‘Michael, those are your lines from Thriller, you brute!’ He started laughing too, but held my gaze. He cupped my cheeks in his hands and brought his face very close to mine. I could feel his breath on my skin and I felt weak. He spoke again, ‘I am serious, you know. I’m not young anymore. I know exactly what I like. And I like you very much.’ His fingers moved through my hair and he kissed me tenderly on the lips. ‘Come on!’ he said, ‘Stop thinking and let’s keep walking.’
♬
Michael knew he was behaving irrationally. He couldn’t contain his sense of daring. He would never usually do anything like this. What had come over him? Why had he kissed her? Something had compelled him to do it, but he didn’t know what. His head told him that he shouldn’t be taking advantage of a fan in this way. He knew she thought a lot of him from all the times he’d secretly ‘listened-in’ to her conversations on the forum. She’d, unwittingly, revealed a lot about herself and he’d liked what he read. He hated to admit it, but it made him feel really good about himself. And why shouldn’t he go after a girl who seemed to genuinely appreciate his talent and accomplishments? He couldn’t pretend they didn’t exist. They were a part of him. Okay she was star-struck, but he liked her wide-eyed gaze. And he had to confess those sparkly eyes had him feeling a little star-struck himself.
‘Michael! What was that?’ He stopped as soon as she spoke. He looked into her wide-open eyes. He looked around. ‘What?’ he shrugged. He hadn’t heard anything. ‘Listen! I’m sure I heard something.’ He froze again trying to concentrate, but he couldn’t help looking into those eyes and a wicked thought crossed his mind.
‘Listen! I’ll go ahead just to check everything’s okay and you can catch up. Okay?’ She looked at him and seemed to hesitate, but then agreed. He ran ahead for about two minutes, climbed into the lower branches of a tree and waited.
The car slowly rolled over the gravel forecourt and Tom parked alongside a fleet of other SUVs. A large tour bus was parked further away from the castle. My shock must have amused Tom, as he smiled when he opened the door for me.
‘Not bad, eh?’ he chirped.
‘I’ll say. This is unbelievable!’ I really was lost for words.
‘I know!’ Tom continued, ‘we’ll be sorry to leave this place. It’s been a kind of holiday for all of us – a sanctuary. Come on, Miss, leave your bags to me and we’ll find Mike. He’ll want to show you around.’
♪
Michael stood by the edge of the lake marvelling at the colours in the sky. He was sure he had never seen such deep reds and pinks. It was a sight to behold.
His thoughts turned to his guest and he wondered if she was here yet. He set off towards the front of the castle to find out.
He smiled when he saw her. ‘Hello, stranger!’ he called as he approached her, ‘Tom got you here safe and sound I see.’
‘Safe as houses!’ said Tom, ‘I’ll take the bags in. Do you need me again this evening, Mike?’
‘No, Tom, take the rest of the evening off and go and enjoy yourself. I’m not planning on going anywhere in the morning either, so have a lie in.’
‘Excellent!’ said Tom rubbing his hands together, ‘I’m meeting some of the others in town for a pint. Dos cervezas, por favor? How’s my accent?’
‘Terrible, Tom, stick to the Cockney,’ laughed Michael.
‘Adios, Michael! Have fun, Miss!’ Tom called as he disappeared into the castle.
‘Bye, Tom! And thanks for the lesson in rhyming slang!’ I called over.
Michael raised his brow. ‘So, he’s been teaching you already, huh?’
‘You'd better Adam and Eve it!’
They both laughed and walked towards the lake.
Her face reflected the colour of the sunset and her smiling eyes sparkled like the lake. She broke his gaze and surveyed her surroundings.
‘Michael, this is stunning. Thank you for inviting me here. I feel very lucky.’ Michael smiled.
‘I’m glad you could come. It’s nice to see you again – in a slightly quieter environment.’
They smiled at each other.
‘Come on!’ he said softly, ‘Let’s watch the sunset until it disappears. Honestly, this place has never looked as beautiful as it does this evening.’
And he was pleased she was here to share it with him.
PART 2
She tried to finish the poem but failed miserably. The words on the page blurred and then disappeared all together. Now Michael was the poet and her body and her mind the blank page waiting to be filled. His fingers pressed into her flesh, heavy and obstinate like nouns. His large hands held her fast controlling the rhythm and form of her body, not letting any part of her escape his notice. His kisses swept over her like playful verbs teasing and dancing. He whispered sweet nothings that landed on her skin like butterflies and filled her head full of imagery that sent her mind spinning. Like a deep-sea diver he swam in her ocean searching for that elusive pearl. He found it overflowing and lustrous bright and he emerged triumphant gasping for air. But seeing her tremble and reel with exhaustion he immediately covered her with his warmth and love and he held her body close to his with a vice-like grip.
ONE: Upside down, boy you turn me (Upside Down, Diana Ross: Motown 50) ♬
Courtly lovers, servants and hunters were dressed in the most flamboyant costumes of deep burgundy, blood red and regal blue. Greyhounds stood obediently at their masters’ heel whilst wild white horses had to be restrained by men bearing spears. Nobody flinched. They stood quite still before the most magnificent fortress: a walled city of turrets and towers adorned with flags and colourful banners. Rolling hills, vines laden with fruit and a Mediterranean blue sky framed the perfect scene. I blinked, suddenly aware of what I was looking at: a tapestry that covered the entire wall beside my bed. I sat upright and tried to familiarise myself with my strange environment. The room was full of the most exquisite furniture. The windows were completely hidden behind the heaviest drapes of rich red fabric. The walls were covered in a dizzying array of paintings and tapestries of different eras. I looked back at the one beside my bed and wondered if the walled city was the same one I’d passed through yesterday.
And then it dawned on me. This wasn’t any old castle. This was his castle –at least for this week anyway. And I was his guest. I shot out of bed and went to look out of the window. I threw back the drapes and gasped. I had the most stunning view of the lake reflecting the morning sun and blue sky. To the right and just visible over the treetops I could just see the towers and turrets of the old town. It was most definitely the town depicted in my tapestry.
After a leisurely breakfast with Tom, Andy and some of the roadies, I decided to explore the castle. During our stroll around the grounds the previous evening I’d discovered Michael was an encyclopaedia of information. He was fascinated by wars and conquests and this place was steeped in a tradition of battles and siege. He told me that part of the reason for hiring the castle was to give his staff a much needed break, but it was also partly selfish as he’d always wanted to do some sight-seeing in this particular region and his tour had provided the perfect opportunity. He’d traveled here by train and devoured all the history books he could find. I was impressed by his knowledge of the castle’s inhabitants over the centuries many of whom had met with a particularly bloody or dismal death. He pointed out which parts of the castle had been built in the twelfth century and which parts had been added later. I couldn’t wait to explore it this morning and as Michael normally breakfasted by himself, I had some time to kill.
The place was a catacomb of corridors and hidden staircases filled with old suits of armour and dusty oil paintings depicting men of war at various stages of their conquests. Some stood proud in military regalia surveying their hard-won land, others were victorious as they thrust swords into the dying bodies of their defeated enemies. Others were mounted upon absurdly huge wild-eyed horses. I walked through rooms filled with the spoils of war and riches successive generations had acquired. They were beautifully preserved and everywhere was evidence of more recent additions.
I entered a library filled floor to ceiling with shelves of red and green leather-bound volumes. This in turn led to a drawing room and beyond another sitting room that seemed to lead out to the garden and lake. I was just about to turn back to take a closer look at the library when I heard the most peculiar noises coming from the sitting room. As I neared the room I recognised the familiar sound of Michael’s voice. He was singing or to be more precise exercising his voice. I stood in the doorway, hoping he wouldn’t mind my intrusion. He carried on for a while and then began having a conversation with somebody which was strange because I couldn’t see anyone else in the room. It dawned on me that he was receiving instructions over a speaker-phone. His voice coach was playing notes on a piano and prompting Michael to sing arpeggios and scales. When Michael noticed me standing there he beckoned me in. He carried on smiling whilst he tried to concentrate, but my presence must have embarrassed him and he giggled. ‘Are you listening, Michael? That was all wrong,’ his voice coach admonished. ‘Sorry, Seth, I’m listening.’ He gave me a sheepish grin and carried on with the exercises. ‘Now, Michael, do you need to be fully open?' Seth asked. ‘Yes!’ Michael replied. He smiled at my quizzical expression. Seth proceeded to train Michael’s voice. The sound was quite breathtaking. He went from baritone to high pitches and falsetto whilst Seth encouraged him to sing different vowel sounds and vary the pitch and pace of the notes he was singing. Even though he was simply singing random words and letters, the sounds he made were the most beautiful I had ever heard. ( listen here)
By now the sun was high in the sky and the whole room was bathed in its heat and light. I smiled as Michael danced and bopped to his voice exercises, but had to resist the urge to giggle when he grinned back at me or pulled a silly face. I was still mesmerized and hardly aware the session had ended when Michael came and joined me on the sofa. He smiled at me and with eyes that sparkled in the sun asked, ’So, I’m yours for the rest of the day. What shall we do?’
I had to pinch myself. ‘Am I dreaming, Michael?’ Everything seemed too perfect. He smiled and playfully pinched my arm, ‘Of course not, silly!’
‘I just don’t get it!’ I continued, ‘First of all my buddy gets me a backstage pass to your concert. Then I’m on stage dancing with you. Then you give me your number and invite me here to stay in this beautiful castle!’ A strange thought crossed my mind, ‘Do you actually know my buddy, Michael?’ He looked straight back at me,
‘Who? What are you talking about?’
‘My buddy!’ I continued, ‘I met him on your website.’
‘You met a complete stranger on the internet? What’s his name?’ Michael asked. I could tell he was playing games with me.
‘He’s not a complete stranger. In fact we know each other quite well, but I, er, I don’t know his name.
He got me a backstage pass to your concert. He knows Andy!’ Two could play at this game.
‘You don’t know his name? He could be anybody! Maybe, it is Andy.’ Michael suggested.
‘But surely he would have told me!’ I was beginning to feel a little silly and embarrassed about the conversation. I felt a twinge of guilt that I hadn’t actually spoken to my buddy since I left home and resolved to write him a private message later that day. A thought crossed my mind, but I shook it away.
‘Look we’re wasting a beautiful day.’ Michael said, ‘Let’s go outside!’ He took my hand and led me towards the French doors and out into the sun-drenched garden.
♬
How could she not have guessed that he was her buddy? Michael couldn’t believe she had not yet put two and two together. Or maybe she had guessed and just didn’t want to say anything yet. He decided he’d wait a little longer before saying anything himself. It was like a little secret game; a role-play. Maybe she did know, maybe she didn’t know. Either way he’d have fun playing along with it a little longer.
Now his session with Seth was over he felt relaxed and ready to enjoy the next three days before he had another show. He wanted to have fun and she was like an old friend now –even if she, herself, didn’t know it yet. He smiled to himself as he held her hand and led her out into the garden.
♬
The sun was high in the sky and by now beginning to really burn. Michael looked cool and crisp in his white shirt and black fedora hat, but by the time we’d reached the other side of the lake, even he was beginning to complain about the heat. We looked out across the lake holding our breath as an occasional breeze rolled across its surface. I looked behind me into the forest, ‘I wonder whose wood that is?’ I had assumed it belonged to the castle but a fence ran between it and the path we were walking. Michael’s eyes followed my gaze. The wood looked dark and deep and the coolness it promised was difficult to resist. Michael must have thought the same thing because we both ran towards the fence and like trespassers clambered over, eager to cool off in the shade.
‘Whose woods are these I think I know!’ Michael sang.(Stopping by Woods)
‘Is that a song, Michael?’
‘No,’ he smiled at me, ‘It’s a poem. Robert Frost. Have you heard of him?’
‘A little.’ I replied, ‘He wrote something about a wall, didn’t he?’
‘Yes, Mending Wall!’ he replied, ‘President Kennedy’s favourite poem.’ (Mending Wall)
‘So you love history and poetry?’ I enquired.
‘I love reading anything. But, yes I love poetry. It inspires me. I love how words can transport you.
Quite literally take you to another place. Poems lift us out of ourselves.’ He stretched out his arms and breathed in the cool air. I was struggling to keep up with his pace. He turned back towards me.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked.
‘I’m fine, but you walk so fast.’
‘I’m sorry!’ he replied, ‘I’m so used to walking by myself. It’s nice to have company. Here.’ He stopped and held out his hand for me.
‘Thanks!’ I tried to remain cool as we scrambled hand-in-hand through the dense forest, but my insides were turning cartwheels.
TWO: So let me hold you tight and share a killer, thriller Ooow! (Thrill Her!) ♬
I was completely oblivious to where we were going so I took the opportunity to think about the moment. I was curious as to why he seemed to like me. Was he lonely and I’d just happened to be in the right place at the right time? He seemed so cool and sure of himself. He could have any girl he wanted. What was he doing holding the hand of a relative stranger? I was simply one of millions of other fans: just an ordinary girl who had been in love with his music, his performances, photographs, in fact, everything about him for years. Michael was walking fast and I had to almost run to keep up with him. I stumbled. ‘Michael!’ I suddenly stopped. ‘Please tell me what’s going on here?’ I don’t know what came over me, but I suddenly felt weak with confusion. ‘Sorry?’ he queried. ‘Where are we going?’ I wondered. And then boldly added, ‘Where are you taking me?’ Michael’s expression changed. He looked confused, ‘I dunno. I just needed to get away from everything. I wanted to just… walk with you.’ ‘Are you running away?’ I asked. He shrugged, ‘I dunno. Sometimes I want to… escape. I just feel this irresistible urge to keep going… I like holding your hand.’
I tried to smile, but I still felt wracked with confusion. ‘Michael, you must know I am head over heels in love with you.’ I gabbled. ‘Like millions of other girls.’ I didn’t know what had come over me. ‘I was just curious as to…’ Michael put his finger on my lips and moved closer. His eyes looked over my head and he paused as if he had something difficult to say. He took a deep breath, ‘You know I like you… and I hope you like me… the way I like you...’ I cracked up with laughter and suddenly felt silly for having been so serious. ‘Michael, those are your lines from Thriller, you brute!’ He started laughing too, but held my gaze. He cupped my cheeks in his hands and brought his face very close to mine. I could feel his breath on my skin and I felt weak. He spoke again, ‘I am serious, you know. I’m not young anymore. I know exactly what I like. And I like you very much.’ His fingers moved through my hair and he kissed me tenderly on the lips. ‘Come on!’ he said, ‘Stop thinking and let’s keep walking.’
♬
Michael knew he was behaving irrationally. He couldn’t contain his sense of daring. He would never usually do anything like this. What had come over him? Why had he kissed her? Something had compelled him to do it, but he didn’t know what. His head told him that he shouldn’t be taking advantage of a fan in this way. He knew she thought a lot of him from all the times he’d secretly ‘listened-in’ to her conversations on the forum. She’d, unwittingly, revealed a lot about herself and he’d liked what he read. He hated to admit it, but it made him feel really good about himself. And why shouldn’t he go after a girl who seemed to genuinely appreciate his talent and accomplishments? He couldn’t pretend they didn’t exist. They were a part of him. Okay she was star-struck, but he liked her wide-eyed gaze. And he had to confess those sparkly eyes had him feeling a little star-struck himself.
‘Michael! What was that?’ He stopped as soon as she spoke. He looked into her wide-open eyes. He looked around. ‘What?’ he shrugged. He hadn’t heard anything. ‘Listen! I’m sure I heard something.’ He froze again trying to concentrate, but he couldn’t help looking into those eyes and a wicked thought crossed his mind.
‘Listen! I’ll go ahead just to check everything’s okay and you can catch up. Okay?’ She looked at him and seemed to hesitate, but then agreed. He ran ahead for about two minutes, climbed into the lower branches of a tree and waited.
He could see her approaching. ‘Michael! Where are you?’ she called. He smiled to himself. He waited until she was just close enough and then he pounced. He brought her tumbling to the ground and as she tried to roll over he held her fast beneath him. ‘Michae…’ He kissed her, passionately this time, until he felt she had surrendered. Slowly and tentatively she began to kiss him back. He felt all the tension between them melt away. He held her tight as if he wanted to keep her there forever. He pulled away so that he could look at her whole face. He searched her eyes for answers. They seemed to say yes and he kissed her again with all the strength he had.
Thrill her (cont.) The thing with forty eyes…
That’s when he heard for himself: the ever so familiar sound of rolling film and camera shutters. He looked around and saw, not one, but at least three figures disappear into the shadows. Damn the paparazzi! DAMN THEM!
♬
I was speechless! One minute I was drowning in the ecstasy of Michael’s kiss and the bliss of having his whole weight upon me. The next I was staring up at him on his knees with an expression of utter rage. I looked around and saw something move in the shadows, but couldn’t make out what it was. Michael was still on his knees looking bewildered. He wrapped his arms around his head and released the most woebegone yell. I was a little frightened and didn’t know what to say. He looked back at me with crestfallen eyes. I tried to smile, but apparently not very successfully as it brought no response. Reluctantly, he pulled me to my feet and in complete silence we headed back.
THREE: Words just aren’t enough (Dangerous: Give In To Me) ♬
By the time we reached the edge of the forest the light had changed. It was still warm, but the heat had taken on a new humidity. Dark clouds were gathering on the horizon and my head was banging. We made our way towards the castle. ‘You’d better get yourself something to eat.’ Michael said feigning a smile. He didn’t speak to me for the rest of that day. Perhaps he was talking to his management about this latest setback. I was something he would just have to explain away.
After dinner I headed back to my room. It felt warm and oppressive so I kept the drapes pulled back and opened some of the windows. I took a cool bath and then slipped into my thinnest cotton pyjamas. I sat by the window on one of the wide window seats, leaned back against the deep window frame and watched as the thunderstorm gathered force.
I surveyed the dark room and shivered as the tapestry on the wall suddenly lit up in the most brilliant flash of lightning. I usually reveled in thunderstorms, but tonight I just felt empty. I looked round my room and saw the laptop case I'd thrown under the bed. Maybe there was someone I could talk to.
♬
Michael stormed into his suite without bothering to turn on the lights. He was furious and he felt like an idiot. Why hadn’t it occurred to him the place would be swarming? Hadn’t he lived his whole life having to think twice about every little thing he did? He was angry with himself. Every front page of every junk tabloid in the world was inevitably going to run with the story. What were the ramifications. He knew he would have to speak to Frank in the morning.
And then he thought about his own behaviour. He had simply stormed off like a petulant child without any explanation. He had left her standing. He was ashamed of himself and felt it was time to come clean and tell her the truth. He didn’t feel like playing fun and games any more. He opened up his laptop and took a deep breath. But before he had a chance to write anything he noticed she’d already left a message:
Hi Stranger,
Sorry I haven’t spoken in a while but things have been pretty unusual lately! Well I did it! I rang him and here I am staying with Michael, mid-tour, in the most beautiful castle! It’s a dream come true. Or, at least, it was until this afternoon. We went for a walk in the woods nearby and… well we kissed! (I know, I know - still haven't had time to think!!!) Unfortunately, we weren’t alone – I think there were some paps hiding in there. Well, Michael is not happy to say the least. He hasn’t really spoken to me since. What should I do? I know he is the most private of people and something like this… well it’s devastating for him. I feel terrible and I don’t really know what to do or say. I know I should probably leave. I wish you were online so I could talk to you. I really don’t know what to do.
I’ll hang around in case you read this soon.
Michael frowned as he read the message again and then slammed his laptop shut.
♬
I did think twice before I sent the message. I felt like I was betraying Michael’s confidence, but I wasn’t thinking straight and was I desperate for some friendly advice. I knew he wouldn’t betray me. I looked around the room and decided to start packing straight away. Much as I didn’t want to leave I knew Michael didn’t need me here anymore. I looked back at the message I’d just sent and placed the laptop still open on the window seat beside me. Maybe he’d get back to me before the night was through.
By now the thunderstorm was directly above the castle and lightning flashed and thunder rumbled almost simultaneously. The castle seemed to shake with the ferocity of the storm and under different circumstances I would have revelled in its beauty. Each flash illuminated the forest and the old town which both seemed to draw closer to the castle. I looked over towards the old town and decided that I would try to find a hotel in the morning and stay there until I could book the next available flight home. At least that way I would get to explore the place before I left and it would help me to take my mind off recent events. A knock at the door suddenly interrupted my thoughts. I was momentarily stunned and wondered whether it was just the storm rattling through the draughty old castle. I called out, ‘Hello?’ Michael’s head appeared around the door and he looked at me with such intensity I felt compelled to go to him. ‘Don’t go!’ he implored. ‘Sorry?’ I replied. He spoke again, ‘I don’t want you to leave!’ ‘But I never said anything. Michael?’ He looked over my shoulder towards the laptop still opened on the window seat. ‘You? But I don’t understand. Why didn’t you tell me…’ I faltered. Before I could finish the sentence he placed his lips on mine. I stood quite still and quite helpless once again. I pulled back so I could look at him, but there was no need to say anything. He took my hand and pulled me towards the bed.
The thunderstorm continued well into the night and it continued to light up the whole room and the windows rattled with each rumble, but Michael and I had ceased to notice.
FOUR: Ain’t The Pictures Enough? (Invincible: PRIVACY) ♬
I felt the warm sun on my face before I opened my eyes the next morning. The windows were still wide open and the air felt fresher than it had the previous day. Remembering I was completely naked I wrapped myself in one of the sheets before I got out of bed to close the window and draw the curtains. Michael had slipped back to his own room a few hours earlier before anyone else in the castle had stirred. As I drew the curtain I looked down at my laptop that was still lying open on the window seat. ‘Goodbye, buddy! I’m going to miss you.’ I said aloud as I closed it and put it back in its case.
I felt light as a feather as I skipped down the stairs to breakfast and I couldn’t wait to see Michael again. I entered the grand dining room and gradually became aware that everyone already in there had stopped talking and many even turned their heads to look over in my direction. Okay! I thought as I made my way over to the coffee and cereals Feeling kinda self-conscious here! To my relief normal chatter slowly resumed as I turned around and looked for somewhere to sit. I was grateful to see Tom not far away and took my tray over to his table. ‘Morning, Tom!’ I said as brightly as I could muster. ‘Morning, Miss!’ he replied as I sat myself down. 'Is anything the matter, Tom?' I quizzed as I looked at his unusually serious expression. ‘Er… think you’d probably best have a look at this.’ he continued and he placed what appeared to be a Spanish tabloid in front of me. ‘Best you see it now!’ he proffered as I stared at the photo on the front page in absolute horror.
‘But they couldn’t have been that close!’ I gasped. The black and white photograph showed Michael lying on top of me, my arms wrapped around his shoulders. You could see every detail of our faces. There was no doubt that this was a photograph of Michael Jackson. ‘That’s not all,’ said Tom as he opened up the paper. I turned page after page in disbelief. I’d been prepared for the odd photo and maybe a small side article, but this! The whole afternoon we had spent together was documented. There it was in black and white: Michael and I sat on the sofa in the garden room, Michael and I holding hands as we left the castle, Michael and I laughing as we walked around the lake, Michael jumping out of the tree to surprise me, Michael lying on top of me, Michael and I kissing. There was even a photograph of Michael holding his head in despair after he realised we’d been caught by the paparazzi. I didn’t need to read the text to understand what I was looking at. Further on in the paper there was a montage of women who had been associated with Michael in the past: Brooke Shields, Madonna, Tatum O’Neil, Lisa Marie-Presley, Debbie Rowe, even Grace the nanny all photographed with Michael. And there, right in the centre of a heart shaped photograph, Michael and myself. I didn’t know whether to cry or burst into laughter. ‘What does the headline say, Tom?’
‘Er… I think it says ‘Who Is It?’ or something like that… you know one of his songs. Wait till you see the British tabloids, Miss!’ My jaw hit the ground.
‘You mean it gets worse?’
‘Eh up!’ Tom nodded towards the doorway, ‘Here comes Frank. Mike’s manager. Look lively, girl!’ He carried on eating his breakfast whilst I could do nothing but stare at this rather stern-faced little man who was holding a cigar. There was something distinctly foreboding about the way he began walking straight towards me.
♬
A cool fresh breeze blew through the open doors of the garden room. Michael looked out over the lake and towards the forest beyond. His security team had been instructed to keep the perimeter of the grounds under constant surveillance and he watched them as they walked up and down the path around the lake. The events of the previous day now seemed unreal. But of course they were very real. On a large coffee table in the centre of the room, newspapers from around the world had been placed in rows, some of the headlines and photographs clearly visible.
JUST GOOD FRIENDS?
MICHAEL’S THRILLER ROMP!
HELLO, MY SUMMER LOVE!
GOTCHA! JACKO SCORES!
THE KING AND HIS SECRET LOVER!...
Frank was furious. It was exactly the kind of distraction he didn’t need mid-tour. It was disconcerting for the fans to see a girlfriend on the scene and Frank’s master plan lay in tatters –the whole ‘untouchable’ thing. It ruined the illusion; the magic of Michael Jackson. Frank knew he had to come up with a solution and fast.
Michael was still going over Frank’s words in his head when he turned and saw her appear at the door. Frank moved to the centre of the room and gestured with his cigar for her to sit on the sofa. Michael watched as she gazed at the rows of newspapers. She was clearly upset. He stared at her hard, willing her to look back at him, but she looked embarrassed and avoided his eye.
‘Okay, kids!’ Frank started, ‘I gotta know what we’re dealing with here!’
♬
I felt like I’d been sent to the principal’s office after sneaking alcohol into school. And there, in front of me, all the consequences of my 'reckless' behaviour screamed back at me. So this is what it was to be part of Michael’s world. An innocent moment between two lovers turned into a media circus. And what was Michael going to say? Was he going to carry on staring at me with those big ‘holier-than-thou’ eyes, as if I were the miscreant; the ringleader who’d led him astray? I was beginning to see red.
Frank’s lips were moving, but I wasn’t listening. My mind was swimming with everything that had happened between Michael and I. I couldn’t care less about damage limitation or appeasing the media’s hunger. I searched Michael’s eyes looking for a glimmer of encouragement, but he seemed more guarded than ever. A ball of anger began to form in the pit of my stomach; enough was enough.
‘Excuse me, Frank, I don’t need to hear this!’ I looked up at Michael who remained speechless, so I simply got up and left the room.
FIVE: I'll Change the Rules For You (Dangerous: Can't Let Her Get Away)
♬
Michael hadn’t been listening either. He’d heard it all before. Frank was a shrewd businessman and had always read Michael’s mind. He trusted Frank. Frank knew the industry like the back of his hand and had never let Michael down. But somehow Michael knew this was all wrong. He didn’t want Frank interfering this time. He couldn’t let this happen. This wasn’t Frank’s problem. Yes, he was on tour. Yes, it was not the best timing, but something told him he couldn’t let her get away. Frank was still reeling after she’d left the room, but Michael ignored him. ‘Give me your keys, Frank!’
‘What?’ Frank looked at Michael in absolute horror.
‘Your keys, Frank! Give me your car keys! Please!’ Michael repeated.
Reluctantly, Frank handed over his car keys. ‘Mike, tell me what’s…’ But he didn’t finish his sentence. Michael had already disappeared.
♬
I had barely made it into the entrance hall of the house before Michael ran up behind me and grabbed my arm, ‘Follow me. Now! Don’t say anything!’ He led me out of the castle, onto the forecourt and towards a black Mercedes. ‘Michael, what are you doing?’ ‘Shush, wait till we’re in the car.’ He looked around nervously, but seemed intent on getting me into the car. He guided me through the passenger door and then ran round and took the driver’s seat. ‘Right, buckle up, girl! I’m not the world’s best driver, but hey!’ He grinned at me and after two false starts revved up the engine.
I really was too surprised to speak at first, but the sideways glances we exchanged said it all. He’d escaped! Ha! He’d run away… with me! I burst out laughing after my initial shock. Michael beamed back at me, but kept his eyes on the road ahead. ‘Where are we going?’ I asked.
‘I seriously do not know, girl! But this is F.U.N. FUN!’ He shouted at the top of his voice and then whooped with delight.
The open road lay before us like a gray ribbon thrown loosely across the beautiful Catalan landscape. We sped past fields and farms, castles and small woods and in front of us loomed the Pyrenees forming an awe-inspiring horizon.
‘I wanna explore!’ said Michael excitedly. ‘I wanna get out see places with you. I am sick of reading about them and having to make special arrangements all the time. I just wanna be spontaneous.’ I looked at him skeptically. ‘What?’ he asked sincerely, his eyes wide, ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘Because you are Michael Jackson! You are not meant to do things spontaneously! You’re mobbed wherever you go!’
‘Well, we’ll just have to be smart then, won’t we?’ he grinned and his eyes sparkled with playfulness.
I looked at him quizzically. I’d seen pictures of him wearing surgical masks and veils, and sometimes even false moustaches and wigs. I still wasn’t convinced.
‘Barcelona!’ I exclaimed as we flew past a signpost. ‘Tell me we are not going into Barcelona, Michael!’
But we were. Soon the quiet, gently undulating countryside was replaced with the grey concrete mass of suburbs and the inevitable heaving crowds drawn to such a place. I found myself sinking further down into my seat and wishing, for once, that Michael didn’t cut quite such a distinctive profile. ‘At least take off your hat.’ I requested as we drove through narrow streets lined with pavement cafes and bars packed to the rafters with tourists who spilled out onto the road. He removed it, but looking at his profile again I wasn’t sure it really helped much.
From out of nowhere a crowd of noisy street performers suddenly surrounded the car. A police officer was failing miserably to control the traffic and Michael had to screech on the brakes. The performers walked through the traffic and right in front us. They were wearing the most flamboyant medieval costumes and enormous masks each beautifully painted. Some were dressed as kings or queens, others as giants and witches. They all seemed to be characters out of fairy-tales. Musicians played lutes, pipes and drums and the tunes they played seemed to get wilder and faster. The performers were spinning and jumping and dancing. The effect was quite stunning. Michael who had forgotten to remain inconspicuous was quite mesmerized by the whole spectacle.
I couldn’t believe we had driven into the middle of a carnival and as if reading my thoughts Michael looked worried. When the way was clear he maneuvered the car down what seemed to be a quiet backstreet. Blocking the way ahead was a large van. Two men were arranging armfuls of costumes and masks on a grassy verge by the pavement. Next to them was a handmade sign stuck into the ground that proclaimed in both Spanish and English CARNIVAL COSTUMES FOR HIRE 20 EUROS PLUS 15 EUROS DEPOSIT. Michael looked at me and our eyes locked together in disbelieving delight.
SIX: Let the song begin, let the music play... (Freddy Mercury, Barcelona)
♬
Michael had never done anything like this before. Of course, he was used to wearing disguises but he’d always had incognito bodyguards less than a few feet away at all times. This felt dangerous, but he was hugely excited. He decided to call Frank just to let him know they were okay, ‘No need to let him know exactly where we are, though!’ he winked. Luckily the windows of the Mercedes were darkened so they could change in some privacy. They were both so excited they were completely oblivious to the fact that they were ripping their clothes off in front of each other. ‘This is a bit awkward,’ she gasped as her arms and head got stuck inside the long, dark green tunic dress she was trying to pull on. Michael laughed at the sight and fumbled about trying to help her. ‘You haven’t undone the zip, silly.’
Finally they were ready. ‘You look like Juliet!’ he announced admiring her dress, veil and the circlet around her head. ‘Actually, you look amazing!’ The masks were beautifully sculpted and decorated, almost Venetian in style.
‘Oh Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?' she teased. Michael’s costume included a hood that meant not one part of his head was visible. She looked him up and down. The only giveaway as to who he was were his white socks and black loafers and the white sticky tape he still had wrapped around some of his fingertips, none of which really went that well with the rest of his costume, but she thought he looked cute anyway. ‘We’re lucky it’s cooler today!’ he announced, his voice muffled by the mask.
‘Well, this way, my lady!’ He held out his arm. She gladly accepted and together they followed a few other masked revelers heading towards the main square.
♬
We walked through the ragbag of festivities holding hands and laughing at the spectacle. The music and dance were intoxicating and several times Michael or myself were almost whisked away from each other by frenzied dancers looking for new partners. I looked at Michael and forgetting I was wearing a mask, I tried to smile reassuringly. He seemed to understand and tightened his grip on my hand as we made our way through the crowds. I could tell he was excited and terrified all at the same time. I was his only protection from a world that could crush him in seconds flat. Michael, seeming to sense my anxiety, put his arm around my waist drawing me closer to him. He whispered in my ear, ‘If you can’t beat ‘em!’ Suddenly, he stopped and pulled me towards him pressing his hand firmly into the small of my back. He began to move his body, grinding against mine slowly at first, but as I relaxed he moved in time to the music gently guiding my hips with his hands.
♬
I felt that strange sensation I had felt when I was on stage except this time the crowd was preoccupied and no one was watching us. My face felt warm beneath the mask and without realising I complained aloud about the heat. ‘Take it off then,’ he whispered. It hadn’t occurred to me that it was perfectly safe to do so, so I pushed it back on top of my head and relished the open air on my face again. Michael’s grip tightened and we continued to dance. Then, to my surprise, he lifted his mask until his lips were just visible. ‘It’s very hot under here!’ he whispered seductively. Unable to resist the open invitation I reached up and kissed him there and then. The softness of his lips combined with the searing hot sun and the warmth of his roaming hands through the thin fabric of my costume were making me giddy.
Suddenly I started, ‘Michael!’ I said rather too loudly, for a few heads nearby turned. ‘What?’ he feigned. ‘You know very well what!’ I whispered, aware of the curious glances around us. But secretly I enjoyed feeling him squeeze my bottom. 'You deserve a taste of your own medicine!' I stated, allowing my own hands to do the roaming.
We carried on giggling and kissing in the midst of it all. Well it had to be done; we couldn’t give his identity away. I was duty bound, after all. ‘Let’s find somewhere a little quieter.’ he suggested. And who was I to argue?
‘You do know I’ll have to leave soon, Michael!’ Michael didn’t reply straight away. He lowered his eyes and played with his fingers squeezing the white tape around his tips. He’d been deluding himself since she’d arrived not wanting to think for one minute about the inevitable goodbye. He looked up at her biting his lower lip, not knowing what to say and willing she would say something. Maybe she could extend her leave. Maybe she would stay and travel with him for the rest of the tour.
Her eyes bore into him wishing he would say something. She wondered what was going through his mind. Was she just a plaything, a little bit of fun? And now he’d had her, he’d satisfied his curiosity. Perhaps he’d only wanted to date a fan as part of a game to see what would happen. She knew deep down he wouldn’t be cruel and would never hurt anybody intentionally but she couldn’t pretend these things hadn’t been going round in her mind since last night when they had slept together. He had taken her breath away. His touch had been tender and loving and he had not taken his eyes off her as he kissed every part of her body and made sweet love to her. He’d fallen asleep in her arms as she caressed his hair and she’d lain awake for as long as possible savouring his weight on her naked body, their arms and legs completely entwined. Michael quickly adjusted his mask as a passing mime artist broke them both from their thoughts and offered her an imaginary bouquet of flowers that she accepted. He continued to mime for them in the middle of the crowds and Michael, standing behind her, put both his arms around her waist, and resting his head lightly on her shoulder they continued to watch the beautiful performance.
Michael was completely drawn in by the artist who looked just like Pierrot with his white smock and beautifully painted black and white face. He had always felt an affinity with clowns, not just because he loved to fool around and play games and get people wet, but because he always felt like he had to turn on a smile and pretend to be happy. He loved their silence too, and the way they could speak a thousand words with just the slightest movement or gesture. The performance was alluring and the artist had soon drawn quite a crowd, many of who were also couples like them. Michael liked the feeling of blending in with the crowd, his face completely hidden behind the mask. This is what it was to be a real couple, falling in love, and it felt good. Gosh, had it only been last night they’d made love to each other for the first time? It already felt like an age ago. How wonderful it had been to feel her silken skin, to really touch his cybergirl, to move inside her whilst she gazed up at him with those beautiful, big eyes and then reach their ecstasy together. And afterwards, to pretend he’d fallen asleep whilst she held him close and stroked his hair. He started when he realised the crowd was clapping. The clown had finished and was showing his gratitude with kisses that he seemed to release like butterflies into the air.
The main square was beginning to fill up with later merry-makers, perhaps embarking upon an evening of partying and carousal. Michael knew they would have to return to the castle very soon and he also knew he wanted to persuade her to stay. Saying goodbye was not an option. Besides he wanted her to meet his children who would be joining him tomorrow afternoon and coming to see the concert in the evening. He would love her to come too and perhaps she would consider staying at least a few more days. After that, the tour would be moving on and he didn’t really want to contemplate the time they would have to spend apart. That was something to think about another day. He surprised himself. He had never before felt this anxious about a woman. Sure he had had girlfriends in his younger years and he had even been married twice. But he didn’t want to think about that now. This felt different. He felt different. He didn’t know what was going through her mind, but his mind was full of endless possibilities. What if they really had a future together? He loved the way he felt around her. He’d never really felt his age, but she made him feel younger. She had given him a taste of what his life might have been like. With her he felt all the freedom he had sang about so many times, but very rarely had had the opportunity to feel in reality.
He gripped her hand tightly and they walked though the crowds towards some of the quieter streets that led away from the main square. Michael still felt like he was walking about on a film set. He kept expecting a director to suddenly yell, ’Cut! It’s a wrap. Everybody take five!’ But nobody did. Here he was walking about in the real world and nobody took a second glance at him. It felt wonderful. He took risks by removing his mask momentarily to wink back at her, but suddenly got a fright when a group of raucous British girls fell out of one of the cafes nearby. They were all wearing his official concert t-shirts. Michael stood rooted to the spot as they strolled nonchalantly by chatting excitedly about the concert they were attending tomorrow and whether Michael would be wearing the gold pants they loved so much. It was a reality check and Michael decided it was probably time to head back to the castle.
♬
Michael was in a playful mood the whole day. Despite the mask, I could see the gleam in his eyes and he walked quickly eager to see everything before it all disappeared from him again. We held hands and explored the shops on the little side streets off the main square. We gazed in wonder at the window displays, drooling like kids over the stacks of brightly wrapped sweets, handmade chocolates, and sticky pastries. Michael could not resist the boutiques and managed to buy his children matching sailor outfits complete with hats for dressing up. Just as we were about to leave and return our costumes, Michael spotted a bookstore. And without hesitating he'd pulled me inside.
There was nobody else save an elderly old gentleman who didn’t speak a word of English. He seemed delighted to see us and he waved flamboyantly as if to say, ‘Make yourselves at home,’ and then he promptly disappeared down a staircase completely hidden from view by stacks of books. There didn’t seem to be any order or semblance to the books. The shelves were bursting and in places more books were stacked precariously from floor to ceiling. It was the kind of place you could lose yourself for hours. Michael was mesmerized from the moment we entered. And as the old man showed no sign of returning soon, or for that matter, even recognising Michael if he did return, Michael removed his mask.
‘This is simply wonderful,’ Michael said, his eyes dancing as he tried to take it all in. ‘I mean do you know how difficult it is for me just to arrange a visit to an ordinary bookshop?’ he continued, ‘and to stumble upon a place like this is a dream come true.’ And, as if under a spell, he explored every nook and cranny, picking up books and feeling the texture of their covers, even breathing in their old muskiness. ‘Don’t you just love the smell of old books?’ he asked.
SEVEN: Heaven Can Wait (Invincible: Heaven Can Wait) ♬
Michael and I split up as we explored the bookshop. It was a labyrinth of rooms each filled to the brim with dusty books, old and new. The floor seemed to slope downwards so it felt as though I was going below street level. Eventually, I found a little nook filled with English Literature. There was a tiny window high up and from this den of tranquillity I could see that the streets were still full of people and merry-making. I surrounded myself with the classics, but after the excitement of the day and the comfortable warmth of the bookshop I just couldn’t resist the urge to close my eyes.
♬
Michael was in his element. All thoughts of his tour and the busy day that lay ahead (rehearsals, several interviews, meeting his children, not to mention the concert in the evening) were put firmly at the back of his head as he explored this paradise. Each book represented a world of adventure and discovery. Travel, modern fiction, history and books about the planet many of which were naturally in Spanish, but so beautifully illustrated he couldn’t resist them anyway. He piled all the books he wanted to buy on the counter and then continued to explore further still.
He found books on Spanish architects and artists. He found a whole room on American literature and filled his arms with collections of poetry and drama he’d never come across before. He noticed another little room down some steps and there on the floor, surrounded by books and sleeping soundly, he found her.
She looked so peaceful he hardly dared disturb her. They’d had a pretty adventurous couple of days and he wasn’t surprised she was exhausted. After all, they hadn’t had much sleep last night. He smiled. Her hair fanned out over a book she’d been browsing and he bent down to take a closer look.
She looked beautiful. He noticed how lustrous and dark her eyelashes were. Strands of hair fell over her forehead and he noticed the gentle curve of her brow. He gently smoothed her hair away from her face as she began to stir. Her lips parted and slowly she opened her tired eyes. He wanted her so much. He took her hand and pressed it flat against his own and whispered:
If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this...
She smiled and listened as he continued to read from the book lying open beside her.
...My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
She replied without looking at the book:
Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss
Michael smiled. She knew the words by heart. How wonderful! He continued to read.
Have not saints lips and holy palmers too?
Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;
Michael kissed her gently, at first. Their palms still open and pressed together. His other hand caressed her face as he kissed her. God! This felt wonderful. Never in his life had he felt such a complete sense of abandon. He wanted to get closer still, but he knew he would not be able to stop himself. He continued kissing her, ‘I want you.’ he said trying to contain himself. He moved his hand to the small of her back and she reacted immediately, tilting her head back. He kissed her chin and moved down her neck feeling his way with both his lips and fingers, to her collarbone. He couldn’t stop his fingers going further and he caressed her intimately with his free hand. Sensing her arousal through the flimsy material of her costume, he pulled down on the costume baring her breasts. Without taking his eyes off of her he continued to massage and unable to resist he filled his mouth full and allowed his tongue to dance playfully. She moaned and then, suddenly, she cursed.
‘Michael! Stop!’
Michael looked at her face and reflecting the horror in her eyes he slowly looked up out of the tiny window above them.
♬
Rosaline had escaped the unforgiving heat of the crowded bar to catch a breath of the cool, early evening breeze. She was feeling quite light headed after the last glass of Cava and needed to sit down on the pavement. She looked over her shoulder as she leaned against the wall and realized she could see into her favourite bookshop, the one her course tutor had recommended. She’d spent plenty of time in the English Lit section and was not surprised at all to see a young couple embracing each other. The old man who owned it kept to himself and probably never even realized students were always making out in the quiet little rooms hidden by stacks of books. Still, this couple was getting hot and she couldn’t take her eyes off of them. Maybe it was the heat and the carnival atmosphere, but Rosaline felt quite aroused just watching them.
Suddenly the young woman caught her eye and she was just about to move when the man looked up as well. There was something very familiar about him.
♬
Frank took the call and was part relieved, part panic-stricken. He immediately made arrangements for security and personnel to collect Michael and his friend from the bookshop.
‘Is he trying to kill me?’ he muttered to himself pacing around the castle library whilst chewing on his unlit cigar.
♬
The bookkeeper peered through the piles of books in the window display at the multitudes that had gathered on the pavement outside his shop. He had never seen such a spectacle in all his life. The street was packed with people all straining to look inside his shop. Even the police had arrived and they were trying to push the crowd back onto the pavement on the other side of the road. Men with cameras jostled for key positions. Some, the bookkeeper noticed, had even brought stepladders. He looked back at the five burly men inside his store all dressed in dark suits and wearing shades. These were very strange events, indeed, and he wondered if he should have bothered opening the shop today at all. The couple, now without masks, reappeared and the man pointed at all the books piled high on the counter by the cash register. The bookkeeper beamed. Maybe it had been worth opening up today after all.
♬
Michael knew all hell would break loose. He knew the whole day had been a ridiculous idea. He knew that at any given moment the game would be up. Once again, they’d be on the cover of every tabloid newspaper and gossip rag in the world. The King of Pop and the mystery girl in a mask! He hadn’t bothered putting his own mask back on as they pushed through the frenzied crowd outside the bookshop. What was the point? As Michael stared at her sitting over on the far side of the seat, photographers still throwing their cameras up against the darkened windows, he smiled.
He knew all these things, but still he didn’t give a damn what anybody else thought. He'd gone ahead and spent the whole day with her anyway. Every single second of it had been bliss and he wasn't even worried about tomorrow or the day after that. He held out his arm and drew her closer. She removed her mask and looked up at him, smiling. ‘What were you thinking of?’ she whispered. ‘You!’ he replied kissing her.
He breathed in the scent of her hair and nuzzled her ear, whispering so quietly she could only just hear the song he was singing.
You’re beautiful
Each moment spent with you is simply wonderful
This love I have for you girl it’s incredible
And I don’t know what I’d do, if I can’t be with you
The world could not go on so every night I pray
If the Lord should come for me before I wake
I wouldn’t wanna go if I can’t see your face, can’t hold you close
What good would Heaven be
If the angels came for me I’d tell them no
♬
Andy briefly caught sight of them in the rear view mirror. She had seemed like a very ordinary girl, but apparently this was more serious than anyone back at the castle had imagined. And, boy, was everyone imagining what could be going on between the boss and his new girlfriend. And as Andy continued to drive, the sunset in all its glory on the horizon he couldn’t help but wonder what the future held for these star-crossed lovers.
♬
They spent the evening relaxing in Michael’s suite surrounded by all the books he’d bought that day. Michael rested his sleepy head in her lap and she played with his hair and smoothed his brow as he read from his poetry books. ‘Your turn!’ he said and he laughed lazily at her fluffy socks and tickled her feet breaking her concentration. ‘Okay! It’s Emily Dickinson.’ she announced as the book fell open on her lap.
I started early, took my dog,
And visited the sea;…
‘Michael!’ she scolded as she tried to read the poem aloud for the third time. ‘I can’t concentrate when you do that.’ He was nibbling her ear now and smiled at her. ‘Mmmmm! Are you angry with me?’ he asked feigning sadness. ‘You are such a mischief maker!’ She couldn’t help smiling though. ‘Carry on reading!’ he told her, a little too authoritatively she thought. ‘Yes, sir!’
The mermaids in their basement
Came out to look at me…
And every time she paused he removed an item of her clothing. She was determined not to let him break her concentration and she desperately tried to quell her arousal and carry on reading, ‘No man moved me till the tide/ Went past my simple shoe…’ First of all her socks disappeared and she tried not to giggle as he massaged the soles of her feet. His grip was powerful and she felt herself melting at his touch. The words continued to tumble out of her mouth, but she couldn’t help but be seduced by his serious eyes that were now locked onto hers. He was listening intently.
And made as he would eat me up…
She adjusted her position, cleared her throat and began reading again. But now his fingers were unbuttoning her jeans. She looked back at him. ‘Don’t stop reading!’ he whispered. He paused and looked at her in earnest. She continued and soon her jeans lay in a heap behind him. ‘And then I started to…’ She suddenly felt shy and self-consciously drew her legs away from him. They were the part of her body she hated most. She looked at him, curiously, as he began to kiss her legs from the tips of her toes upwards. He looked up at her and smiled, ‘Please read!’ he urged.
And he – he followed close behind
‘Who's following her?’ Michael asked, looking up puzzled for a moment. She was completely sidetracked. ‘I – I’m not sure. The dog? The sea?’ ‘Oh!’ Michael exclaimed, ‘She’s talking about the sea – it’s following her!’ And he continued kissing her legs. ‘She's captivated,’ he continued. ‘She's letting the sea consume her. She can't move. I love your thighs.’ She blushed and brought the book up to cover her face.
She tried to finish the poem but failed miserably. The words on the page blurred and then disappeared all together. Now Michael was the poet and her body and her mind were the blank page waiting to be filled. His fingers pressed into her flesh, heavy and obstinate like nouns. His large hands held her fast controlling the rhythm and form of her body, not letting any part of her escape his notice. His kisses swept over her like playful verbs teasing and dancing. He whispered sweet nothings that landed on her skin like butterflies and filled her head full of imagery that sent her mind spinning. Like a deep-sea diver he swam in her ocean searching for that elusive pearl. He found it overflowing and lustrous bright and he emerged triumphant gasping for air. But seeing her tremble and reel with exhaustion he immediately covered her with his warmth and love and he held her body close to his with a vice-like grip.
Thrill her (cont.) The thing with forty eyes…
That’s when he heard for himself: the ever so familiar sound of rolling film and camera shutters. He looked around and saw, not one, but at least three figures disappear into the shadows. Damn the paparazzi! DAMN THEM!
♬
I was speechless! One minute I was drowning in the ecstasy of Michael’s kiss and the bliss of having his whole weight upon me. The next I was staring up at him on his knees with an expression of utter rage. I looked around and saw something move in the shadows, but couldn’t make out what it was. Michael was still on his knees looking bewildered. He wrapped his arms around his head and released the most woebegone yell. I was a little frightened and didn’t know what to say. He looked back at me with crestfallen eyes. I tried to smile, but apparently not very successfully as it brought no response. Reluctantly, he pulled me to my feet and in complete silence we headed back.
THREE: Words just aren’t enough (Dangerous: Give In To Me) ♬
By the time we reached the edge of the forest the light had changed. It was still warm, but the heat had taken on a new humidity. Dark clouds were gathering on the horizon and my head was banging. We made our way towards the castle. ‘You’d better get yourself something to eat.’ Michael said feigning a smile. He didn’t speak to me for the rest of that day. Perhaps he was talking to his management about this latest setback. I was something he would just have to explain away.
After dinner I headed back to my room. It felt warm and oppressive so I kept the drapes pulled back and opened some of the windows. I took a cool bath and then slipped into my thinnest cotton pyjamas. I sat by the window on one of the wide window seats, leaned back against the deep window frame and watched as the thunderstorm gathered force.
I surveyed the dark room and shivered as the tapestry on the wall suddenly lit up in the most brilliant flash of lightning. I usually reveled in thunderstorms, but tonight I just felt empty. I looked round my room and saw the laptop case I'd thrown under the bed. Maybe there was someone I could talk to.
♬
Michael stormed into his suite without bothering to turn on the lights. He was furious and he felt like an idiot. Why hadn’t it occurred to him the place would be swarming? Hadn’t he lived his whole life having to think twice about every little thing he did? He was angry with himself. Every front page of every junk tabloid in the world was inevitably going to run with the story. What were the ramifications. He knew he would have to speak to Frank in the morning.
And then he thought about his own behaviour. He had simply stormed off like a petulant child without any explanation. He had left her standing. He was ashamed of himself and felt it was time to come clean and tell her the truth. He didn’t feel like playing fun and games any more. He opened up his laptop and took a deep breath. But before he had a chance to write anything he noticed she’d already left a message:
Hi Stranger,
Sorry I haven’t spoken in a while but things have been pretty unusual lately! Well I did it! I rang him and here I am staying with Michael, mid-tour, in the most beautiful castle! It’s a dream come true. Or, at least, it was until this afternoon. We went for a walk in the woods nearby and… well we kissed! (I know, I know - still haven't had time to think!!!) Unfortunately, we weren’t alone – I think there were some paps hiding in there. Well, Michael is not happy to say the least. He hasn’t really spoken to me since. What should I do? I know he is the most private of people and something like this… well it’s devastating for him. I feel terrible and I don’t really know what to do or say. I know I should probably leave. I wish you were online so I could talk to you. I really don’t know what to do.
I’ll hang around in case you read this soon.
Michael frowned as he read the message again and then slammed his laptop shut.
♬
I did think twice before I sent the message. I felt like I was betraying Michael’s confidence, but I wasn’t thinking straight and was I desperate for some friendly advice. I knew he wouldn’t betray me. I looked around the room and decided to start packing straight away. Much as I didn’t want to leave I knew Michael didn’t need me here anymore. I looked back at the message I’d just sent and placed the laptop still open on the window seat beside me. Maybe he’d get back to me before the night was through.
By now the thunderstorm was directly above the castle and lightning flashed and thunder rumbled almost simultaneously. The castle seemed to shake with the ferocity of the storm and under different circumstances I would have revelled in its beauty. Each flash illuminated the forest and the old town which both seemed to draw closer to the castle. I looked over towards the old town and decided that I would try to find a hotel in the morning and stay there until I could book the next available flight home. At least that way I would get to explore the place before I left and it would help me to take my mind off recent events. A knock at the door suddenly interrupted my thoughts. I was momentarily stunned and wondered whether it was just the storm rattling through the draughty old castle. I called out, ‘Hello?’ Michael’s head appeared around the door and he looked at me with such intensity I felt compelled to go to him. ‘Don’t go!’ he implored. ‘Sorry?’ I replied. He spoke again, ‘I don’t want you to leave!’ ‘But I never said anything. Michael?’ He looked over my shoulder towards the laptop still opened on the window seat. ‘You? But I don’t understand. Why didn’t you tell me…’ I faltered. Before I could finish the sentence he placed his lips on mine. I stood quite still and quite helpless once again. I pulled back so I could look at him, but there was no need to say anything. He took my hand and pulled me towards the bed.
The thunderstorm continued well into the night and it continued to light up the whole room and the windows rattled with each rumble, but Michael and I had ceased to notice.
FOUR: Ain’t The Pictures Enough? (Invincible: PRIVACY) ♬
I felt the warm sun on my face before I opened my eyes the next morning. The windows were still wide open and the air felt fresher than it had the previous day. Remembering I was completely naked I wrapped myself in one of the sheets before I got out of bed to close the window and draw the curtains. Michael had slipped back to his own room a few hours earlier before anyone else in the castle had stirred. As I drew the curtain I looked down at my laptop that was still lying open on the window seat. ‘Goodbye, buddy! I’m going to miss you.’ I said aloud as I closed it and put it back in its case.
I felt light as a feather as I skipped down the stairs to breakfast and I couldn’t wait to see Michael again. I entered the grand dining room and gradually became aware that everyone already in there had stopped talking and many even turned their heads to look over in my direction. Okay! I thought as I made my way over to the coffee and cereals Feeling kinda self-conscious here! To my relief normal chatter slowly resumed as I turned around and looked for somewhere to sit. I was grateful to see Tom not far away and took my tray over to his table. ‘Morning, Tom!’ I said as brightly as I could muster. ‘Morning, Miss!’ he replied as I sat myself down. 'Is anything the matter, Tom?' I quizzed as I looked at his unusually serious expression. ‘Er… think you’d probably best have a look at this.’ he continued and he placed what appeared to be a Spanish tabloid in front of me. ‘Best you see it now!’ he proffered as I stared at the photo on the front page in absolute horror.
‘But they couldn’t have been that close!’ I gasped. The black and white photograph showed Michael lying on top of me, my arms wrapped around his shoulders. You could see every detail of our faces. There was no doubt that this was a photograph of Michael Jackson. ‘That’s not all,’ said Tom as he opened up the paper. I turned page after page in disbelief. I’d been prepared for the odd photo and maybe a small side article, but this! The whole afternoon we had spent together was documented. There it was in black and white: Michael and I sat on the sofa in the garden room, Michael and I holding hands as we left the castle, Michael and I laughing as we walked around the lake, Michael jumping out of the tree to surprise me, Michael lying on top of me, Michael and I kissing. There was even a photograph of Michael holding his head in despair after he realised we’d been caught by the paparazzi. I didn’t need to read the text to understand what I was looking at. Further on in the paper there was a montage of women who had been associated with Michael in the past: Brooke Shields, Madonna, Tatum O’Neil, Lisa Marie-Presley, Debbie Rowe, even Grace the nanny all photographed with Michael. And there, right in the centre of a heart shaped photograph, Michael and myself. I didn’t know whether to cry or burst into laughter. ‘What does the headline say, Tom?’
‘Er… I think it says ‘Who Is It?’ or something like that… you know one of his songs. Wait till you see the British tabloids, Miss!’ My jaw hit the ground.
‘You mean it gets worse?’
‘Eh up!’ Tom nodded towards the doorway, ‘Here comes Frank. Mike’s manager. Look lively, girl!’ He carried on eating his breakfast whilst I could do nothing but stare at this rather stern-faced little man who was holding a cigar. There was something distinctly foreboding about the way he began walking straight towards me.
♬
A cool fresh breeze blew through the open doors of the garden room. Michael looked out over the lake and towards the forest beyond. His security team had been instructed to keep the perimeter of the grounds under constant surveillance and he watched them as they walked up and down the path around the lake. The events of the previous day now seemed unreal. But of course they were very real. On a large coffee table in the centre of the room, newspapers from around the world had been placed in rows, some of the headlines and photographs clearly visible.
JUST GOOD FRIENDS?
MICHAEL’S THRILLER ROMP!
HELLO, MY SUMMER LOVE!
GOTCHA! JACKO SCORES!
THE KING AND HIS SECRET LOVER!...
Frank was furious. It was exactly the kind of distraction he didn’t need mid-tour. It was disconcerting for the fans to see a girlfriend on the scene and Frank’s master plan lay in tatters –the whole ‘untouchable’ thing. It ruined the illusion; the magic of Michael Jackson. Frank knew he had to come up with a solution and fast.
Michael was still going over Frank’s words in his head when he turned and saw her appear at the door. Frank moved to the centre of the room and gestured with his cigar for her to sit on the sofa. Michael watched as she gazed at the rows of newspapers. She was clearly upset. He stared at her hard, willing her to look back at him, but she looked embarrassed and avoided his eye.
‘Okay, kids!’ Frank started, ‘I gotta know what we’re dealing with here!’
♬
I felt like I’d been sent to the principal’s office after sneaking alcohol into school. And there, in front of me, all the consequences of my 'reckless' behaviour screamed back at me. So this is what it was to be part of Michael’s world. An innocent moment between two lovers turned into a media circus. And what was Michael going to say? Was he going to carry on staring at me with those big ‘holier-than-thou’ eyes, as if I were the miscreant; the ringleader who’d led him astray? I was beginning to see red.
Frank’s lips were moving, but I wasn’t listening. My mind was swimming with everything that had happened between Michael and I. I couldn’t care less about damage limitation or appeasing the media’s hunger. I searched Michael’s eyes looking for a glimmer of encouragement, but he seemed more guarded than ever. A ball of anger began to form in the pit of my stomach; enough was enough.
‘Excuse me, Frank, I don’t need to hear this!’ I looked up at Michael who remained speechless, so I simply got up and left the room.
FIVE: I'll Change the Rules For You (Dangerous: Can't Let Her Get Away)
♬
Michael hadn’t been listening either. He’d heard it all before. Frank was a shrewd businessman and had always read Michael’s mind. He trusted Frank. Frank knew the industry like the back of his hand and had never let Michael down. But somehow Michael knew this was all wrong. He didn’t want Frank interfering this time. He couldn’t let this happen. This wasn’t Frank’s problem. Yes, he was on tour. Yes, it was not the best timing, but something told him he couldn’t let her get away. Frank was still reeling after she’d left the room, but Michael ignored him. ‘Give me your keys, Frank!’
‘What?’ Frank looked at Michael in absolute horror.
‘Your keys, Frank! Give me your car keys! Please!’ Michael repeated.
Reluctantly, Frank handed over his car keys. ‘Mike, tell me what’s…’ But he didn’t finish his sentence. Michael had already disappeared.
♬
I had barely made it into the entrance hall of the house before Michael ran up behind me and grabbed my arm, ‘Follow me. Now! Don’t say anything!’ He led me out of the castle, onto the forecourt and towards a black Mercedes. ‘Michael, what are you doing?’ ‘Shush, wait till we’re in the car.’ He looked around nervously, but seemed intent on getting me into the car. He guided me through the passenger door and then ran round and took the driver’s seat. ‘Right, buckle up, girl! I’m not the world’s best driver, but hey!’ He grinned at me and after two false starts revved up the engine.
I really was too surprised to speak at first, but the sideways glances we exchanged said it all. He’d escaped! Ha! He’d run away… with me! I burst out laughing after my initial shock. Michael beamed back at me, but kept his eyes on the road ahead. ‘Where are we going?’ I asked.
‘I seriously do not know, girl! But this is F.U.N. FUN!’ He shouted at the top of his voice and then whooped with delight.
The open road lay before us like a gray ribbon thrown loosely across the beautiful Catalan landscape. We sped past fields and farms, castles and small woods and in front of us loomed the Pyrenees forming an awe-inspiring horizon.
‘I wanna explore!’ said Michael excitedly. ‘I wanna get out see places with you. I am sick of reading about them and having to make special arrangements all the time. I just wanna be spontaneous.’ I looked at him skeptically. ‘What?’ he asked sincerely, his eyes wide, ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘Because you are Michael Jackson! You are not meant to do things spontaneously! You’re mobbed wherever you go!’
‘Well, we’ll just have to be smart then, won’t we?’ he grinned and his eyes sparkled with playfulness.
I looked at him quizzically. I’d seen pictures of him wearing surgical masks and veils, and sometimes even false moustaches and wigs. I still wasn’t convinced.
‘Barcelona!’ I exclaimed as we flew past a signpost. ‘Tell me we are not going into Barcelona, Michael!’
But we were. Soon the quiet, gently undulating countryside was replaced with the grey concrete mass of suburbs and the inevitable heaving crowds drawn to such a place. I found myself sinking further down into my seat and wishing, for once, that Michael didn’t cut quite such a distinctive profile. ‘At least take off your hat.’ I requested as we drove through narrow streets lined with pavement cafes and bars packed to the rafters with tourists who spilled out onto the road. He removed it, but looking at his profile again I wasn’t sure it really helped much.
From out of nowhere a crowd of noisy street performers suddenly surrounded the car. A police officer was failing miserably to control the traffic and Michael had to screech on the brakes. The performers walked through the traffic and right in front us. They were wearing the most flamboyant medieval costumes and enormous masks each beautifully painted. Some were dressed as kings or queens, others as giants and witches. They all seemed to be characters out of fairy-tales. Musicians played lutes, pipes and drums and the tunes they played seemed to get wilder and faster. The performers were spinning and jumping and dancing. The effect was quite stunning. Michael who had forgotten to remain inconspicuous was quite mesmerized by the whole spectacle.
I couldn’t believe we had driven into the middle of a carnival and as if reading my thoughts Michael looked worried. When the way was clear he maneuvered the car down what seemed to be a quiet backstreet. Blocking the way ahead was a large van. Two men were arranging armfuls of costumes and masks on a grassy verge by the pavement. Next to them was a handmade sign stuck into the ground that proclaimed in both Spanish and English CARNIVAL COSTUMES FOR HIRE 20 EUROS PLUS 15 EUROS DEPOSIT. Michael looked at me and our eyes locked together in disbelieving delight.
SIX: Let the song begin, let the music play... (Freddy Mercury, Barcelona)
♬
Michael had never done anything like this before. Of course, he was used to wearing disguises but he’d always had incognito bodyguards less than a few feet away at all times. This felt dangerous, but he was hugely excited. He decided to call Frank just to let him know they were okay, ‘No need to let him know exactly where we are, though!’ he winked. Luckily the windows of the Mercedes were darkened so they could change in some privacy. They were both so excited they were completely oblivious to the fact that they were ripping their clothes off in front of each other. ‘This is a bit awkward,’ she gasped as her arms and head got stuck inside the long, dark green tunic dress she was trying to pull on. Michael laughed at the sight and fumbled about trying to help her. ‘You haven’t undone the zip, silly.’
Finally they were ready. ‘You look like Juliet!’ he announced admiring her dress, veil and the circlet around her head. ‘Actually, you look amazing!’ The masks were beautifully sculpted and decorated, almost Venetian in style.
‘Oh Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?' she teased. Michael’s costume included a hood that meant not one part of his head was visible. She looked him up and down. The only giveaway as to who he was were his white socks and black loafers and the white sticky tape he still had wrapped around some of his fingertips, none of which really went that well with the rest of his costume, but she thought he looked cute anyway. ‘We’re lucky it’s cooler today!’ he announced, his voice muffled by the mask.
‘Well, this way, my lady!’ He held out his arm. She gladly accepted and together they followed a few other masked revelers heading towards the main square.
♬
We walked through the ragbag of festivities holding hands and laughing at the spectacle. The music and dance were intoxicating and several times Michael or myself were almost whisked away from each other by frenzied dancers looking for new partners. I looked at Michael and forgetting I was wearing a mask, I tried to smile reassuringly. He seemed to understand and tightened his grip on my hand as we made our way through the crowds. I could tell he was excited and terrified all at the same time. I was his only protection from a world that could crush him in seconds flat. Michael, seeming to sense my anxiety, put his arm around my waist drawing me closer to him. He whispered in my ear, ‘If you can’t beat ‘em!’ Suddenly, he stopped and pulled me towards him pressing his hand firmly into the small of my back. He began to move his body, grinding against mine slowly at first, but as I relaxed he moved in time to the music gently guiding my hips with his hands.
♬
I felt that strange sensation I had felt when I was on stage except this time the crowd was preoccupied and no one was watching us. My face felt warm beneath the mask and without realising I complained aloud about the heat. ‘Take it off then,’ he whispered. It hadn’t occurred to me that it was perfectly safe to do so, so I pushed it back on top of my head and relished the open air on my face again. Michael’s grip tightened and we continued to dance. Then, to my surprise, he lifted his mask until his lips were just visible. ‘It’s very hot under here!’ he whispered seductively. Unable to resist the open invitation I reached up and kissed him there and then. The softness of his lips combined with the searing hot sun and the warmth of his roaming hands through the thin fabric of my costume were making me giddy.
Suddenly I started, ‘Michael!’ I said rather too loudly, for a few heads nearby turned. ‘What?’ he feigned. ‘You know very well what!’ I whispered, aware of the curious glances around us. But secretly I enjoyed feeling him squeeze my bottom. 'You deserve a taste of your own medicine!' I stated, allowing my own hands to do the roaming.
We carried on giggling and kissing in the midst of it all. Well it had to be done; we couldn’t give his identity away. I was duty bound, after all. ‘Let’s find somewhere a little quieter.’ he suggested. And who was I to argue?
‘You do know I’ll have to leave soon, Michael!’ Michael didn’t reply straight away. He lowered his eyes and played with his fingers squeezing the white tape around his tips. He’d been deluding himself since she’d arrived not wanting to think for one minute about the inevitable goodbye. He looked up at her biting his lower lip, not knowing what to say and willing she would say something. Maybe she could extend her leave. Maybe she would stay and travel with him for the rest of the tour.
Her eyes bore into him wishing he would say something. She wondered what was going through his mind. Was she just a plaything, a little bit of fun? And now he’d had her, he’d satisfied his curiosity. Perhaps he’d only wanted to date a fan as part of a game to see what would happen. She knew deep down he wouldn’t be cruel and would never hurt anybody intentionally but she couldn’t pretend these things hadn’t been going round in her mind since last night when they had slept together. He had taken her breath away. His touch had been tender and loving and he had not taken his eyes off her as he kissed every part of her body and made sweet love to her. He’d fallen asleep in her arms as she caressed his hair and she’d lain awake for as long as possible savouring his weight on her naked body, their arms and legs completely entwined. Michael quickly adjusted his mask as a passing mime artist broke them both from their thoughts and offered her an imaginary bouquet of flowers that she accepted. He continued to mime for them in the middle of the crowds and Michael, standing behind her, put both his arms around her waist, and resting his head lightly on her shoulder they continued to watch the beautiful performance.
Michael was completely drawn in by the artist who looked just like Pierrot with his white smock and beautifully painted black and white face. He had always felt an affinity with clowns, not just because he loved to fool around and play games and get people wet, but because he always felt like he had to turn on a smile and pretend to be happy. He loved their silence too, and the way they could speak a thousand words with just the slightest movement or gesture. The performance was alluring and the artist had soon drawn quite a crowd, many of who were also couples like them. Michael liked the feeling of blending in with the crowd, his face completely hidden behind the mask. This is what it was to be a real couple, falling in love, and it felt good. Gosh, had it only been last night they’d made love to each other for the first time? It already felt like an age ago. How wonderful it had been to feel her silken skin, to really touch his cybergirl, to move inside her whilst she gazed up at him with those beautiful, big eyes and then reach their ecstasy together. And afterwards, to pretend he’d fallen asleep whilst she held him close and stroked his hair. He started when he realised the crowd was clapping. The clown had finished and was showing his gratitude with kisses that he seemed to release like butterflies into the air.
The main square was beginning to fill up with later merry-makers, perhaps embarking upon an evening of partying and carousal. Michael knew they would have to return to the castle very soon and he also knew he wanted to persuade her to stay. Saying goodbye was not an option. Besides he wanted her to meet his children who would be joining him tomorrow afternoon and coming to see the concert in the evening. He would love her to come too and perhaps she would consider staying at least a few more days. After that, the tour would be moving on and he didn’t really want to contemplate the time they would have to spend apart. That was something to think about another day. He surprised himself. He had never before felt this anxious about a woman. Sure he had had girlfriends in his younger years and he had even been married twice. But he didn’t want to think about that now. This felt different. He felt different. He didn’t know what was going through her mind, but his mind was full of endless possibilities. What if they really had a future together? He loved the way he felt around her. He’d never really felt his age, but she made him feel younger. She had given him a taste of what his life might have been like. With her he felt all the freedom he had sang about so many times, but very rarely had had the opportunity to feel in reality.
He gripped her hand tightly and they walked though the crowds towards some of the quieter streets that led away from the main square. Michael still felt like he was walking about on a film set. He kept expecting a director to suddenly yell, ’Cut! It’s a wrap. Everybody take five!’ But nobody did. Here he was walking about in the real world and nobody took a second glance at him. It felt wonderful. He took risks by removing his mask momentarily to wink back at her, but suddenly got a fright when a group of raucous British girls fell out of one of the cafes nearby. They were all wearing his official concert t-shirts. Michael stood rooted to the spot as they strolled nonchalantly by chatting excitedly about the concert they were attending tomorrow and whether Michael would be wearing the gold pants they loved so much. It was a reality check and Michael decided it was probably time to head back to the castle.
♬
Michael was in a playful mood the whole day. Despite the mask, I could see the gleam in his eyes and he walked quickly eager to see everything before it all disappeared from him again. We held hands and explored the shops on the little side streets off the main square. We gazed in wonder at the window displays, drooling like kids over the stacks of brightly wrapped sweets, handmade chocolates, and sticky pastries. Michael could not resist the boutiques and managed to buy his children matching sailor outfits complete with hats for dressing up. Just as we were about to leave and return our costumes, Michael spotted a bookstore. And without hesitating he'd pulled me inside.
There was nobody else save an elderly old gentleman who didn’t speak a word of English. He seemed delighted to see us and he waved flamboyantly as if to say, ‘Make yourselves at home,’ and then he promptly disappeared down a staircase completely hidden from view by stacks of books. There didn’t seem to be any order or semblance to the books. The shelves were bursting and in places more books were stacked precariously from floor to ceiling. It was the kind of place you could lose yourself for hours. Michael was mesmerized from the moment we entered. And as the old man showed no sign of returning soon, or for that matter, even recognising Michael if he did return, Michael removed his mask.
‘This is simply wonderful,’ Michael said, his eyes dancing as he tried to take it all in. ‘I mean do you know how difficult it is for me just to arrange a visit to an ordinary bookshop?’ he continued, ‘and to stumble upon a place like this is a dream come true.’ And, as if under a spell, he explored every nook and cranny, picking up books and feeling the texture of their covers, even breathing in their old muskiness. ‘Don’t you just love the smell of old books?’ he asked.
SEVEN: Heaven Can Wait (Invincible: Heaven Can Wait) ♬
Michael and I split up as we explored the bookshop. It was a labyrinth of rooms each filled to the brim with dusty books, old and new. The floor seemed to slope downwards so it felt as though I was going below street level. Eventually, I found a little nook filled with English Literature. There was a tiny window high up and from this den of tranquillity I could see that the streets were still full of people and merry-making. I surrounded myself with the classics, but after the excitement of the day and the comfortable warmth of the bookshop I just couldn’t resist the urge to close my eyes.
♬
Michael was in his element. All thoughts of his tour and the busy day that lay ahead (rehearsals, several interviews, meeting his children, not to mention the concert in the evening) were put firmly at the back of his head as he explored this paradise. Each book represented a world of adventure and discovery. Travel, modern fiction, history and books about the planet many of which were naturally in Spanish, but so beautifully illustrated he couldn’t resist them anyway. He piled all the books he wanted to buy on the counter and then continued to explore further still.
He found books on Spanish architects and artists. He found a whole room on American literature and filled his arms with collections of poetry and drama he’d never come across before. He noticed another little room down some steps and there on the floor, surrounded by books and sleeping soundly, he found her.
She looked so peaceful he hardly dared disturb her. They’d had a pretty adventurous couple of days and he wasn’t surprised she was exhausted. After all, they hadn’t had much sleep last night. He smiled. Her hair fanned out over a book she’d been browsing and he bent down to take a closer look.
She looked beautiful. He noticed how lustrous and dark her eyelashes were. Strands of hair fell over her forehead and he noticed the gentle curve of her brow. He gently smoothed her hair away from her face as she began to stir. Her lips parted and slowly she opened her tired eyes. He wanted her so much. He took her hand and pressed it flat against his own and whispered:
If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this...
She smiled and listened as he continued to read from the book lying open beside her.
...My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
She replied without looking at the book:
Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss
Michael smiled. She knew the words by heart. How wonderful! He continued to read.
Have not saints lips and holy palmers too?
Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;
Michael kissed her gently, at first. Their palms still open and pressed together. His other hand caressed her face as he kissed her. God! This felt wonderful. Never in his life had he felt such a complete sense of abandon. He wanted to get closer still, but he knew he would not be able to stop himself. He continued kissing her, ‘I want you.’ he said trying to contain himself. He moved his hand to the small of her back and she reacted immediately, tilting her head back. He kissed her chin and moved down her neck feeling his way with both his lips and fingers, to her collarbone. He couldn’t stop his fingers going further and he caressed her intimately with his free hand. Sensing her arousal through the flimsy material of her costume, he pulled down on the costume baring her breasts. Without taking his eyes off of her he continued to massage and unable to resist he filled his mouth full and allowed his tongue to dance playfully. She moaned and then, suddenly, she cursed.
‘Michael! Stop!’
Michael looked at her face and reflecting the horror in her eyes he slowly looked up out of the tiny window above them.
♬
Rosaline had escaped the unforgiving heat of the crowded bar to catch a breath of the cool, early evening breeze. She was feeling quite light headed after the last glass of Cava and needed to sit down on the pavement. She looked over her shoulder as she leaned against the wall and realized she could see into her favourite bookshop, the one her course tutor had recommended. She’d spent plenty of time in the English Lit section and was not surprised at all to see a young couple embracing each other. The old man who owned it kept to himself and probably never even realized students were always making out in the quiet little rooms hidden by stacks of books. Still, this couple was getting hot and she couldn’t take her eyes off of them. Maybe it was the heat and the carnival atmosphere, but Rosaline felt quite aroused just watching them.
Suddenly the young woman caught her eye and she was just about to move when the man looked up as well. There was something very familiar about him.
♬
Frank took the call and was part relieved, part panic-stricken. He immediately made arrangements for security and personnel to collect Michael and his friend from the bookshop.
‘Is he trying to kill me?’ he muttered to himself pacing around the castle library whilst chewing on his unlit cigar.
♬
The bookkeeper peered through the piles of books in the window display at the multitudes that had gathered on the pavement outside his shop. He had never seen such a spectacle in all his life. The street was packed with people all straining to look inside his shop. Even the police had arrived and they were trying to push the crowd back onto the pavement on the other side of the road. Men with cameras jostled for key positions. Some, the bookkeeper noticed, had even brought stepladders. He looked back at the five burly men inside his store all dressed in dark suits and wearing shades. These were very strange events, indeed, and he wondered if he should have bothered opening the shop today at all. The couple, now without masks, reappeared and the man pointed at all the books piled high on the counter by the cash register. The bookkeeper beamed. Maybe it had been worth opening up today after all.
♬
Michael knew all hell would break loose. He knew the whole day had been a ridiculous idea. He knew that at any given moment the game would be up. Once again, they’d be on the cover of every tabloid newspaper and gossip rag in the world. The King of Pop and the mystery girl in a mask! He hadn’t bothered putting his own mask back on as they pushed through the frenzied crowd outside the bookshop. What was the point? As Michael stared at her sitting over on the far side of the seat, photographers still throwing their cameras up against the darkened windows, he smiled.
He knew all these things, but still he didn’t give a damn what anybody else thought. He'd gone ahead and spent the whole day with her anyway. Every single second of it had been bliss and he wasn't even worried about tomorrow or the day after that. He held out his arm and drew her closer. She removed her mask and looked up at him, smiling. ‘What were you thinking of?’ she whispered. ‘You!’ he replied kissing her.
He breathed in the scent of her hair and nuzzled her ear, whispering so quietly she could only just hear the song he was singing.
You’re beautiful
Each moment spent with you is simply wonderful
This love I have for you girl it’s incredible
And I don’t know what I’d do, if I can’t be with you
The world could not go on so every night I pray
If the Lord should come for me before I wake
I wouldn’t wanna go if I can’t see your face, can’t hold you close
What good would Heaven be
If the angels came for me I’d tell them no
♬
Andy briefly caught sight of them in the rear view mirror. She had seemed like a very ordinary girl, but apparently this was more serious than anyone back at the castle had imagined. And, boy, was everyone imagining what could be going on between the boss and his new girlfriend. And as Andy continued to drive, the sunset in all its glory on the horizon he couldn’t help but wonder what the future held for these star-crossed lovers.
♬
They spent the evening relaxing in Michael’s suite surrounded by all the books he’d bought that day. Michael rested his sleepy head in her lap and she played with his hair and smoothed his brow as he read from his poetry books. ‘Your turn!’ he said and he laughed lazily at her fluffy socks and tickled her feet breaking her concentration. ‘Okay! It’s Emily Dickinson.’ she announced as the book fell open on her lap.
I started early, took my dog,
And visited the sea;…
‘Michael!’ she scolded as she tried to read the poem aloud for the third time. ‘I can’t concentrate when you do that.’ He was nibbling her ear now and smiled at her. ‘Mmmmm! Are you angry with me?’ he asked feigning sadness. ‘You are such a mischief maker!’ She couldn’t help smiling though. ‘Carry on reading!’ he told her, a little too authoritatively she thought. ‘Yes, sir!’
The mermaids in their basement
Came out to look at me…
And every time she paused he removed an item of her clothing. She was determined not to let him break her concentration and she desperately tried to quell her arousal and carry on reading, ‘No man moved me till the tide/ Went past my simple shoe…’ First of all her socks disappeared and she tried not to giggle as he massaged the soles of her feet. His grip was powerful and she felt herself melting at his touch. The words continued to tumble out of her mouth, but she couldn’t help but be seduced by his serious eyes that were now locked onto hers. He was listening intently.
And made as he would eat me up…
She adjusted her position, cleared her throat and began reading again. But now his fingers were unbuttoning her jeans. She looked back at him. ‘Don’t stop reading!’ he whispered. He paused and looked at her in earnest. She continued and soon her jeans lay in a heap behind him. ‘And then I started to…’ She suddenly felt shy and self-consciously drew her legs away from him. They were the part of her body she hated most. She looked at him, curiously, as he began to kiss her legs from the tips of her toes upwards. He looked up at her and smiled, ‘Please read!’ he urged.
And he – he followed close behind
‘Who's following her?’ Michael asked, looking up puzzled for a moment. She was completely sidetracked. ‘I – I’m not sure. The dog? The sea?’ ‘Oh!’ Michael exclaimed, ‘She’s talking about the sea – it’s following her!’ And he continued kissing her legs. ‘She's captivated,’ he continued. ‘She's letting the sea consume her. She can't move. I love your thighs.’ She blushed and brought the book up to cover her face.
She tried to finish the poem but failed miserably. The words on the page blurred and then disappeared all together. Now Michael was the poet and her body and her mind were the blank page waiting to be filled. His fingers pressed into her flesh, heavy and obstinate like nouns. His large hands held her fast controlling the rhythm and form of her body, not letting any part of her escape his notice. His kisses swept over her like playful verbs teasing and dancing. He whispered sweet nothings that landed on her skin like butterflies and filled her head full of imagery that sent her mind spinning. Like a deep-sea diver he swam in her ocean searching for that elusive pearl. He found it overflowing and lustrous bright and he emerged triumphant gasping for air. But seeing her tremble and reel with exhaustion he immediately covered her with his warmth and love and he held her body close to his with a vice-like grip.
Part Three Section 1
Gotta start doing what’s right for you (Bless His Soul, The Jacksons: Destiny)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i6_kEVqEKhI - lovely video and photographs
Michael always felt most awake at night. For some reason he was more relaxed; all his senses heightened and tuned in to everything around him. As a little boy he lay awake well into the small hours just listening; the muted voices of his parents arguing quietly about one thing or another; the sound of his brothers sleeping, sometimes murmuring private thoughts they kept well and truly buried during the day; the scrabbling of a mouse or a rat under the floorboards; even the sound of his own breathing. It was a world away from the noise of the day; his father’s booming voice, reprimanding and scornful; his brothers bickering, teasing and clamoring for attention; the constant cacophony and drumming of recording studios; the chaos of screaming fans as he and his brothers were pushed and shoved from one venue to the next. The hullabaloo of his every waking minute!
As he grew older, Michael would lie awake night after night just acknowledging the solitude and quiet. He found he was at his most creative when the world and its constant and unforgiving gaze would finally leave him alone just to think, just to be. But somewhere down the line, solitude and quiet grew into restlessness and anxiety. Creativity turned into despair. He had cried out for help and doctors subdued and numbed his nocturnal spirit until he drifted off into a drug-induced coma. He woke every day neither refreshed nor optimistic, but at least it had recharged his body a little and given him some strength to face the daily onslaught once again.
Michael allowed his eyes to rest on the full moon that bathed their bare bodies in its strange and brilliant light. He had meant to allow his doctor to put him under once again this evening, but that was before. Everything seemed different now, clearer somehow. He held her tight and absorbed the gentle rise and fall of her body against his. Her bare arms were wrapped around his and he listened intently to the sound of her sleeping. Michael didn’t feel sleepy, but neither did he feel anxious or restless. He drew circles lightly on her upper arm. He kissed the top of her head and held her tighter. She stirred slightly and one of her legs fell back between his. Now they were completely entwined. Even without sheets covering them, Michael felt warm and comfortable. She looked so peaceful, but if she did stir then they would surely make love again and again. Michael felt his senses heighten just like before. He loved the night.
Gotta start doing what’s right for you (Bless His Soul, The Jacksons: Destiny)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i6_kEVqEKhI - lovely video and photographs
Michael always felt most awake at night. For some reason he was more relaxed; all his senses heightened and tuned in to everything around him. As a little boy he lay awake well into the small hours just listening; the muted voices of his parents arguing quietly about one thing or another; the sound of his brothers sleeping, sometimes murmuring private thoughts they kept well and truly buried during the day; the scrabbling of a mouse or a rat under the floorboards; even the sound of his own breathing. It was a world away from the noise of the day; his father’s booming voice, reprimanding and scornful; his brothers bickering, teasing and clamoring for attention; the constant cacophony and drumming of recording studios; the chaos of screaming fans as he and his brothers were pushed and shoved from one venue to the next. The hullabaloo of his every waking minute!
As he grew older, Michael would lie awake night after night just acknowledging the solitude and quiet. He found he was at his most creative when the world and its constant and unforgiving gaze would finally leave him alone just to think, just to be. But somewhere down the line, solitude and quiet grew into restlessness and anxiety. Creativity turned into despair. He had cried out for help and doctors subdued and numbed his nocturnal spirit until he drifted off into a drug-induced coma. He woke every day neither refreshed nor optimistic, but at least it had recharged his body a little and given him some strength to face the daily onslaught once again.
Michael allowed his eyes to rest on the full moon that bathed their bare bodies in its strange and brilliant light. He had meant to allow his doctor to put him under once again this evening, but that was before. Everything seemed different now, clearer somehow. He held her tight and absorbed the gentle rise and fall of her body against his. Her bare arms were wrapped around his and he listened intently to the sound of her sleeping. Michael didn’t feel sleepy, but neither did he feel anxious or restless. He drew circles lightly on her upper arm. He kissed the top of her head and held her tighter. She stirred slightly and one of her legs fell back between his. Now they were completely entwined. Even without sheets covering them, Michael felt warm and comfortable. She looked so peaceful, but if she did stir then they would surely make love again and again. Michael felt his senses heighten just like before. He loved the night.
‘Hey, Mariana,’ he whispered her name over and over again. He was careful not to wake her straight away. He wanted to rouse her slowly.
‘Mariana don’t you hear me calling, Mariana.’
He smiled as she turned over. Her eyes were still closed tight. She snuggled closer to him.
‘Mariana girl you know you were the only one.’
‘Hey, hey Mariana.’
She stirred and groaned, ‘It’s so bright!’ He giggled and pulled her closer lifting her thigh high over his waist.
‘Mariana don’t you miss me just a little.’
‘Mariana after all you were the only one.’
Mariana opened her eyes a little and was instantly dazzled by his smile and bright-eyed gaze. She smiled and kissed him on the lips. ‘I love that song, Michael. It’s one of my favourites.’ He rolled on top of her and continued singing.
‘Come on back to me, Mariana.’
‘Mariana come on back to me girl.’
He continued humming the melody and slowly made love to her again. His voice was deep and resonant and his body rocked hers in time to the tempo he could see and hear so clearly in his mind.
‘Mariana, I need you!’
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
‘Mariana don’t you hear me calling, Mariana.’
He smiled as she turned over. Her eyes were still closed tight. She snuggled closer to him.
‘Mariana girl you know you were the only one.’
‘Hey, hey Mariana.’
She stirred and groaned, ‘It’s so bright!’ He giggled and pulled her closer lifting her thigh high over his waist.
‘Mariana don’t you miss me just a little.’
‘Mariana after all you were the only one.’
Mariana opened her eyes a little and was instantly dazzled by his smile and bright-eyed gaze. She smiled and kissed him on the lips. ‘I love that song, Michael. It’s one of my favourites.’ He rolled on top of her and continued singing.
‘Come on back to me, Mariana.’
‘Mariana come on back to me girl.’
He continued humming the melody and slowly made love to her again. His voice was deep and resonant and his body rocked hers in time to the tempo he could see and hear so clearly in his mind.
‘Mariana, I need you!’
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
‘C’mon, get up girl!’ Michael said, still lying on top of her. ‘How can I move?’ she protested. ‘Try!’ he teased. She tried to push him off, but Michael didn’t budge. She slowly caressed his body with her fingertips working her way upwards. She looked up innocently into his unsuspecting eyes, ‘Mmmmmm girl, what are you…. OOOooooooowwww!’ he howled. Mariana’s fingers had worked their way up into his armpits and she was now on top straddling him. Still tickling him with both hands she basked in her success. He stopped smiling and grabbed both her hands in his. Looking at her intently, he was aroused again. She blushed as he held her fast, his large fingers now pressing into her thighs. ‘I’m going to be sooo late, again,’ he sighed, smiling up at her.
Part Three Section 2: I don't know what's gonna happen to you, baby (Shake Your Body, The Jacksons: Destiny)
Mariana listened with fascination from the bedroom, as Michael and his assistant ran through his schedule in the next room.
‘Good Morning, Mr Jackson! The interviewer is already here and their technicians are setting up cameras and equipment in the library. The interview will begin in one hour. That will be followed by four more interviews – I’ll ensure they keep a very tight schedule, Mr Jackson. I’ve already briefed them all. Lunch will be here at the castle at 12sharp and Frank and Gary want to run through issues with regard to the technical checks this afternoon. The crew are already at the arena rehearsing and you’re expected there at 1pm precisely. Sound checks and dress rehearsal will finish at 3pm. Your children will join you for dinner in your hotel suite in Barcelona at 5pm and Karen will meet you there for hair and make-up. Your car will pick you up at 7pm. Any questions, Mr Jackson?’
'No, no. Thanks, Jill! I’ll be down in an hour.'
‘Wow!’ said Mariana as Michael jumped on top of her. ‘I feel dizzy just thinking about your schedule.’
‘That’s nothing!’ Michael replied. ‘I am so excited about seeing my kids, Mariana. You have no idea! It’s been nearly 2 weeks. Will you join us for dinner?’
‘Michael, I would love to. But they’ll want to talk to you, not some stranger.’ Michael grabbed Mariana’s hand. ‘You’re right. It is too soon. They will have enough excitement this evening! We could all have breakfast together, tomorrow?’
‘I would love to, Michael!’ Mariana smiled and returned Michael's kiss.
‘I gotta jump in the shower.' He jumped up pulling her with him, 'Come on! I want you by my side the whole day.’
He was very late for his first interview.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Michael tried to convince Mariana that nobody would bat an eyelid if she accompanied him that day. But that wasn’t entirely true, of course. Everybody noticed. And nobody missed the lingering glances she and Michael exchanged. Even the television director whispered to one of his assistants, ‘What’s going on there, I wonder?’ But he’d been given strict instructions not to allow any questions regarding Mr Jackson’s personal life. How frustrating it was for all of the journalists who had been granted an interview with Michael that day not to be able to ask the questions people really wanted answers to. Everybody had read the newspapers and seen the photographs that week. Michael’s crew were very careful to hide copies of the tabloids they had been pouring over that morning at breakfast. They spoke of nothing else: ‘She’s very pretty, but who is she?... I wonder what’s going on?... They can’t stop looking at each other.... Look at him! He’s smitten!’ One of his bodyguards remarked, ‘I have worked with Michael for over twenty years and I have never seen him like this!’ A junior runner whispered to another, ‘Look! He’s smiling at her again, he isn’t even listening to the interviewer.’ They giggled.
Michael was behind schedule all day, but he didn’t care. Mariana dazzled him. He smiled to himself as Mariana blushed and tried in vain to remain discreet, but Michael could see the looks she was receiving from people around her. He knew what others were thinking and he knew they’d probably read the papers. But for some reason he didn’t mind. His staff would be too embarrassed to say anything outright. Not in the middle of a tour, anyway. But when the tour was over? What then? Michael knew he and Mariana would cross that bridge when they came to it. Together. He smiled at her. He actually felt a little surprised at himself with just how lackadaisical he’d become. Maybe he should worry more. This wasn’t going to be easy for Mariana. But so far she seemed to be holding her own! And maybe it was time to think about his own life for a change and not what the public or even those closest to him thought. He liked her. He thought about her all the time. He couldn’t keep his damn eyes off of her. Michael cleared his throat and quickly looked back at the interviewer in front of him. Oh God! What question had he just asked?
Part Three Section 2: I don't know what's gonna happen to you, baby (Shake Your Body, The Jacksons: Destiny)
Mariana listened with fascination from the bedroom, as Michael and his assistant ran through his schedule in the next room.
‘Good Morning, Mr Jackson! The interviewer is already here and their technicians are setting up cameras and equipment in the library. The interview will begin in one hour. That will be followed by four more interviews – I’ll ensure they keep a very tight schedule, Mr Jackson. I’ve already briefed them all. Lunch will be here at the castle at 12sharp and Frank and Gary want to run through issues with regard to the technical checks this afternoon. The crew are already at the arena rehearsing and you’re expected there at 1pm precisely. Sound checks and dress rehearsal will finish at 3pm. Your children will join you for dinner in your hotel suite in Barcelona at 5pm and Karen will meet you there for hair and make-up. Your car will pick you up at 7pm. Any questions, Mr Jackson?’
'No, no. Thanks, Jill! I’ll be down in an hour.'
‘Wow!’ said Mariana as Michael jumped on top of her. ‘I feel dizzy just thinking about your schedule.’
‘That’s nothing!’ Michael replied. ‘I am so excited about seeing my kids, Mariana. You have no idea! It’s been nearly 2 weeks. Will you join us for dinner?’
‘Michael, I would love to. But they’ll want to talk to you, not some stranger.’ Michael grabbed Mariana’s hand. ‘You’re right. It is too soon. They will have enough excitement this evening! We could all have breakfast together, tomorrow?’
‘I would love to, Michael!’ Mariana smiled and returned Michael's kiss.
‘I gotta jump in the shower.' He jumped up pulling her with him, 'Come on! I want you by my side the whole day.’
He was very late for his first interview.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Michael tried to convince Mariana that nobody would bat an eyelid if she accompanied him that day. But that wasn’t entirely true, of course. Everybody noticed. And nobody missed the lingering glances she and Michael exchanged. Even the television director whispered to one of his assistants, ‘What’s going on there, I wonder?’ But he’d been given strict instructions not to allow any questions regarding Mr Jackson’s personal life. How frustrating it was for all of the journalists who had been granted an interview with Michael that day not to be able to ask the questions people really wanted answers to. Everybody had read the newspapers and seen the photographs that week. Michael’s crew were very careful to hide copies of the tabloids they had been pouring over that morning at breakfast. They spoke of nothing else: ‘She’s very pretty, but who is she?... I wonder what’s going on?... They can’t stop looking at each other.... Look at him! He’s smitten!’ One of his bodyguards remarked, ‘I have worked with Michael for over twenty years and I have never seen him like this!’ A junior runner whispered to another, ‘Look! He’s smiling at her again, he isn’t even listening to the interviewer.’ They giggled.
Michael was behind schedule all day, but he didn’t care. Mariana dazzled him. He smiled to himself as Mariana blushed and tried in vain to remain discreet, but Michael could see the looks she was receiving from people around her. He knew what others were thinking and he knew they’d probably read the papers. But for some reason he didn’t mind. His staff would be too embarrassed to say anything outright. Not in the middle of a tour, anyway. But when the tour was over? What then? Michael knew he and Mariana would cross that bridge when they came to it. Together. He smiled at her. He actually felt a little surprised at himself with just how lackadaisical he’d become. Maybe he should worry more. This wasn’t going to be easy for Mariana. But so far she seemed to be holding her own! And maybe it was time to think about his own life for a change and not what the public or even those closest to him thought. He liked her. He thought about her all the time. He couldn’t keep his damn eyes off of her. Michael cleared his throat and quickly looked back at the interviewer in front of him. Oh God! What question had he just asked?
The rest of the day was a blur. Mariana couldn’t take her eyes off of Michael. During the rehearsals he kept looking over to where she was sat in the empty arena giving her the most dazzling smiles. He sang to her and seemed oblivious to what everyone else might be thinking. Whenever he got the opportunity he ran over to her asking her questions about the show, “What d’ya think?” “Do ya like the changes we made?” “Hey! Mariana, come see this!” He was like a child showing his best friend a new toy as he explained what the technicians were doing and what happened backstage. He introduced her to everyone and Mariana couldn’t help smiling at his joy. He was so unaffected by his success and hadn’t lost any of his enthusiasm for it all even after all the years he’d been performing.
Although Mariana had seen the concert before, this was a completely different experience. It wasn’t just the different country, the new song list or the extra dance sequences Michael had included. There was something else. She watched the man dancing on the stage before her with new eyes. He wasn’t a stranger anymore. The memory of his hands touching her, his body pressed hard against hers, his lips brushing her own overwhelmed her as she watched him spinning and sending the crowd into a frenzy. He put his heart and soul into every note, every beat and every move and when he smiled at her it was like there was nobody else around. This was all for her. She waved back and immediately felt very silly. Michael seemed to giggle as he continued to perform.
One of Michael’s drivers took Mariana back to the hotel in Barcelona where Michael and his children were staying for the next three nights. Mariana would meet them at breakfast tomorrow and she immediately felt very nervous. She probably wouldn’t get to see Michael before breakfast as he would be so busy after the show and probably exhausted anyway. Mariana was shown to her room that was actually a suite. It was beautiful. Nearly everything was white except the magnificent drapes, that had already been drawn closed, and the curtains around the four-poster bed that were deep red. The bed had been prepared for the evening and the rich red throw had been folded back revealing the crisp white blankets underneath. Mariana noticed a box of chocolates on each pillow and couldn’t resist. Her clothes had already been unpacked and hung in the wardrobe. She took off her shoes and wandered around the suite enjoying the softness of the sumptuous cream carpet on her bare feet. She helped herself to a glass of red wine and continued to explore. The bathroom was unbelievable. The bath was in the centre of the room and was huge. Again everything was crisp white except a huge modern painting of red squares that hung on one wall and was reflected in the mirror that covered the wall opposite. Everything was perfect. She began pouring a bath and put on one of the white robes that was hung behind the door.
There were several different oils to choose from and she finally settled on jasmine. She inhaled deeply as the aroma and steam filled the whole room and then she removed her robe and tested the water before submerging herself in the enormous tub. She rested her head and closed her eyes as she savoured the taste of the red wine. Thoughts of Michael filled her head.
“I just came to say, make yourself comfortable, my lady.” He was standing in the doorway wearing a silver gown, the kind boxers wear, but it was open revealing that he still had on his last costume from the concert. His hair clung to his face and neck and he was holding a water bottle from which he took a swig, “But, I can see you’ve already done that.” He leaned against the doorway and smiled at her.
My Cherie Amour
Mariana was embarrassed and had spilt some of her wine into the water at the sound of his voice. Her eyes adjusted to the steam filled room and she strained them to see where he was, but Michael had disappeared. Where had he gone? She sat up waiting to see if he would come back. All of a sudden music filled the room.
One of Michael’s drivers took Mariana back to the hotel in Barcelona where Michael and his children were staying for the next three nights. Mariana would meet them at breakfast tomorrow and she immediately felt very nervous. She probably wouldn’t get to see Michael before breakfast as he would be so busy after the show and probably exhausted anyway. Mariana was shown to her room that was actually a suite. It was beautiful. Nearly everything was white except the magnificent drapes, that had already been drawn closed, and the curtains around the four-poster bed that were deep red. The bed had been prepared for the evening and the rich red throw had been folded back revealing the crisp white blankets underneath. Mariana noticed a box of chocolates on each pillow and couldn’t resist. Her clothes had already been unpacked and hung in the wardrobe. She took off her shoes and wandered around the suite enjoying the softness of the sumptuous cream carpet on her bare feet. She helped herself to a glass of red wine and continued to explore. The bathroom was unbelievable. The bath was in the centre of the room and was huge. Again everything was crisp white except a huge modern painting of red squares that hung on one wall and was reflected in the mirror that covered the wall opposite. Everything was perfect. She began pouring a bath and put on one of the white robes that was hung behind the door.
There were several different oils to choose from and she finally settled on jasmine. She inhaled deeply as the aroma and steam filled the whole room and then she removed her robe and tested the water before submerging herself in the enormous tub. She rested her head and closed her eyes as she savoured the taste of the red wine. Thoughts of Michael filled her head.
“I just came to say, make yourself comfortable, my lady.” He was standing in the doorway wearing a silver gown, the kind boxers wear, but it was open revealing that he still had on his last costume from the concert. His hair clung to his face and neck and he was holding a water bottle from which he took a swig, “But, I can see you’ve already done that.” He leaned against the doorway and smiled at her.
My Cherie Amour
Mariana was embarrassed and had spilt some of her wine into the water at the sound of his voice. Her eyes adjusted to the steam filled room and she strained them to see where he was, but Michael had disappeared. Where had he gone? She sat up waiting to see if he would come back. All of a sudden music filled the room.
Mariana smiled as she heard Michael’s crystal clear voice singing along to the song.
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
My Cherie Amour, lovely as a summer's day
My Cherie Amour, distant as the Milky Way
My Cherie Amour, pretty little one that I adore
You're the only girl my heart beats for
How I wish that you were mine
In a cafe or sometimes on a crowded street
I've been near you, but you never notice me
My Cherie Amour, won't you tell me how could you ignore
That behind that little smile I wore
How I wish that you were mine
Maybe someday you'll see my face among the crowd
Maybe someday I'll share your little distant cloud
Oh, Cherie Amour, pretty little one that I adore
You're the only girl my heart beats for
How I wish that you were mine
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
She smiled at the irony of the words as he sang, “Maybe someday you’ll see my face among the crowd.” Michael reappeared in the doorway. He’d removed his gown, but was still wearing his concert costume: a pair of tight black leather pants covered in buckles and a silky red top with several black buckles around his arms. Mariana couldn't help but laugh as Michael danced for her in his own inimitable way to the Stevie Wonder song.
Michael's private performance
In fact, Michael put on such a performance she forgot she was completely naked and submerged in a tub. The steam filled room made her feel she was watching him live on stage and he sang and danced with such passion and fire for her she was completely lost in the moment. He twirled and spun and grabbed a shampoo bottle to use as a microphone. They were laughing so hard and he was enjoying her reaction. She was now kneeling and dancing herself, completely oblivious to her nakedness as she enjoyed his performance. Michael suddenly stopped and looked at her. “Mariana!” he gasped, his eyes were wide open. Mariana quickly lowered her body back into the tub, suddenly aware of herself. He knelt down by the side of the tub, “Come here!” he whispered.
Mariana was glowing. Her cheeks burned and he marvelled at how beautiful she looked right now. Her hair was flat against her face and shoulders and he moved some of the stray hairs from her face. He noticed that she looked a little vulnerable: she was completely naked in the water. “Mariana, I missed you so much today. You don’t mind me coming in?” he asked softly. “It’s just that we’ve got so close over the last few days. I didn’t think you would mind me coming into your...oh!” She kissed him. “Michael, I was thinking about you all the time! I missed you too!” She whispered in reply and kissed him again, more slowly this time. “You could never make me feel uncomfortable, Michael!” He held her body close to his, “I missed holding you!” she gasped as he put his arms around her wet body and kissed her more deeply. The music had stopped and although they were both speaking, neither he nor Mariana was really listening. Mariana kissed him as he continued to whisper. She lifted herself further out of the water as she rose to meet his kisses. Michael continued to apologize, but his own body language was not at all apologetic. His kisses were deep and urgent and he paused in between each kiss to gaze at her glistening body. “I didn’t think to knock, Mariana… mmmmm!” She kissed him again. “I thought I’d surprise you… oh! Gggirrrrrl!” he gently cupped her cheeks as they kissed, “you look so hhottt right now!” His fingertips moved down her neck and shoulders and he moved his hands up and down her arms. “I want you rrright now!” he said, but Mariana could hardly hear him speak she was so consumed with desire.
DANGER: Slippery When Wet!
Now, I don't know how many of you have ever tried to have sex in the bathtub, but Michael and Mariana were about to discover it isn't always that easy. Combined with the fact that Mariana had been rather liberal, shall we say, with the jasmine oil it was all rather a slippery and dangerous affair. That's not to say it wasn't enjoyable, of course. Had you been staying in the room next door you would have heard for yourself the shrieks and laughter, the gasping for air and even the occasional expletive, which was not unwarranted as Mariana was so caught up in the moment at one point, she forgot to come up for air.
Michael, of course, had been unable to contain himself and had ripped off all of his clothes by himself. He leaped in, rather too confidently, unfortunately, and nearly lost his footing, so the first word he uttered in the tub was, "Sh*t" which caused Mariana to double up in hysterics. "How much oil did you add, Girl?" Michael overcame his embarrassment and soon got back to business.
Or, at least, he tried to get back to business. He carefully crept on all fours towards Mariana, who was still giggling at him, "Too much red wine for you, I think!" and Michael removed the glass from her hands and took a sip for himself, "Mmmmm!" he said as he licked his lips, "but not as fruity as you, my girl!" and he slipped his tongue inside her mouth. Mariana literally melted again and disappeared under the water before he had time to catch her. She came up spluttering and gasping for air and now it was Michael's turn to laugh at her. But, once he had started giggling he found he just couldn't stop it. Mariana was kneeling and still trying to catch her breath. Her eyes were closed tight, but she wouldn't have been able to see anything anyway through all the hair which now covered her face. "Oh very funny!" she pouted, but this only served to strengthen Michael's hysterics.
When he had finally composed himself he tried to help her move all her hair from her face. Not very successfully. "Here!" he said "Lie back in the water." Mariana lay back so her hair fanned out around her face. "You look like Ophelia!" said Michael smiling down at her. Mariana was floating in the tub, "Mmmmm! This is sooo relaxing." she murmured closing her eyes. "Don't you dare fall asleep!" warned Michael and he grabbed a facecloth and some soap from the side of the tub. "Aaaaaagh! That's cold!" Mariana squealed as he poured the liquid soap all over her breasts. "I warned you not to drift off." Michael smiled. But she had already forgiven him as he began to work up a lather with his hands. She arched her back and pulled herself to the side of the tub for support. "Does that feel nice!" Michael's voice was deep and seductive. She couldn't respond as his hands continued to slowly lather up her whole body regardless of the fact the soap had long since disappeared. And now she felt his hands everywhere as the water gently lapped at her breasts. Again she closed her eyes and moaned in ecstasy. She didn't notice Michael had disappeared under the water until she felt him gently nibbling his way up one of her legs. His mouth felt hot and she could feel him as he gently bit and sucked her flesh. He came up for air, gave her a cheeky smile and then disappeared again. Mariana could not begin to think how it was he could bring her so much pleasure and hold his breath under the water for so long. All she could think about was what his lips and his tongue and his fingers were doing to her. All she could hear was the sound of the water lapping against the side of the tub. And then she heard her own cry of ecstasy before her head went under again.
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
My Cherie Amour, lovely as a summer's day
My Cherie Amour, distant as the Milky Way
My Cherie Amour, pretty little one that I adore
You're the only girl my heart beats for
How I wish that you were mine
In a cafe or sometimes on a crowded street
I've been near you, but you never notice me
My Cherie Amour, won't you tell me how could you ignore
That behind that little smile I wore
How I wish that you were mine
Maybe someday you'll see my face among the crowd
Maybe someday I'll share your little distant cloud
Oh, Cherie Amour, pretty little one that I adore
You're the only girl my heart beats for
How I wish that you were mine
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
She smiled at the irony of the words as he sang, “Maybe someday you’ll see my face among the crowd.” Michael reappeared in the doorway. He’d removed his gown, but was still wearing his concert costume: a pair of tight black leather pants covered in buckles and a silky red top with several black buckles around his arms. Mariana couldn't help but laugh as Michael danced for her in his own inimitable way to the Stevie Wonder song.
Michael's private performance
In fact, Michael put on such a performance she forgot she was completely naked and submerged in a tub. The steam filled room made her feel she was watching him live on stage and he sang and danced with such passion and fire for her she was completely lost in the moment. He twirled and spun and grabbed a shampoo bottle to use as a microphone. They were laughing so hard and he was enjoying her reaction. She was now kneeling and dancing herself, completely oblivious to her nakedness as she enjoyed his performance. Michael suddenly stopped and looked at her. “Mariana!” he gasped, his eyes were wide open. Mariana quickly lowered her body back into the tub, suddenly aware of herself. He knelt down by the side of the tub, “Come here!” he whispered.
Mariana was glowing. Her cheeks burned and he marvelled at how beautiful she looked right now. Her hair was flat against her face and shoulders and he moved some of the stray hairs from her face. He noticed that she looked a little vulnerable: she was completely naked in the water. “Mariana, I missed you so much today. You don’t mind me coming in?” he asked softly. “It’s just that we’ve got so close over the last few days. I didn’t think you would mind me coming into your...oh!” She kissed him. “Michael, I was thinking about you all the time! I missed you too!” She whispered in reply and kissed him again, more slowly this time. “You could never make me feel uncomfortable, Michael!” He held her body close to his, “I missed holding you!” she gasped as he put his arms around her wet body and kissed her more deeply. The music had stopped and although they were both speaking, neither he nor Mariana was really listening. Mariana kissed him as he continued to whisper. She lifted herself further out of the water as she rose to meet his kisses. Michael continued to apologize, but his own body language was not at all apologetic. His kisses were deep and urgent and he paused in between each kiss to gaze at her glistening body. “I didn’t think to knock, Mariana… mmmmm!” She kissed him again. “I thought I’d surprise you… oh! Gggirrrrrl!” he gently cupped her cheeks as they kissed, “you look so hhottt right now!” His fingertips moved down her neck and shoulders and he moved his hands up and down her arms. “I want you rrright now!” he said, but Mariana could hardly hear him speak she was so consumed with desire.
DANGER: Slippery When Wet!
Now, I don't know how many of you have ever tried to have sex in the bathtub, but Michael and Mariana were about to discover it isn't always that easy. Combined with the fact that Mariana had been rather liberal, shall we say, with the jasmine oil it was all rather a slippery and dangerous affair. That's not to say it wasn't enjoyable, of course. Had you been staying in the room next door you would have heard for yourself the shrieks and laughter, the gasping for air and even the occasional expletive, which was not unwarranted as Mariana was so caught up in the moment at one point, she forgot to come up for air.
Michael, of course, had been unable to contain himself and had ripped off all of his clothes by himself. He leaped in, rather too confidently, unfortunately, and nearly lost his footing, so the first word he uttered in the tub was, "Sh*t" which caused Mariana to double up in hysterics. "How much oil did you add, Girl?" Michael overcame his embarrassment and soon got back to business.
Or, at least, he tried to get back to business. He carefully crept on all fours towards Mariana, who was still giggling at him, "Too much red wine for you, I think!" and Michael removed the glass from her hands and took a sip for himself, "Mmmmm!" he said as he licked his lips, "but not as fruity as you, my girl!" and he slipped his tongue inside her mouth. Mariana literally melted again and disappeared under the water before he had time to catch her. She came up spluttering and gasping for air and now it was Michael's turn to laugh at her. But, once he had started giggling he found he just couldn't stop it. Mariana was kneeling and still trying to catch her breath. Her eyes were closed tight, but she wouldn't have been able to see anything anyway through all the hair which now covered her face. "Oh very funny!" she pouted, but this only served to strengthen Michael's hysterics.
When he had finally composed himself he tried to help her move all her hair from her face. Not very successfully. "Here!" he said "Lie back in the water." Mariana lay back so her hair fanned out around her face. "You look like Ophelia!" said Michael smiling down at her. Mariana was floating in the tub, "Mmmmm! This is sooo relaxing." she murmured closing her eyes. "Don't you dare fall asleep!" warned Michael and he grabbed a facecloth and some soap from the side of the tub. "Aaaaaagh! That's cold!" Mariana squealed as he poured the liquid soap all over her breasts. "I warned you not to drift off." Michael smiled. But she had already forgiven him as he began to work up a lather with his hands. She arched her back and pulled herself to the side of the tub for support. "Does that feel nice!" Michael's voice was deep and seductive. She couldn't respond as his hands continued to slowly lather up her whole body regardless of the fact the soap had long since disappeared. And now she felt his hands everywhere as the water gently lapped at her breasts. Again she closed her eyes and moaned in ecstasy. She didn't notice Michael had disappeared under the water until she felt him gently nibbling his way up one of her legs. His mouth felt hot and she could feel him as he gently bit and sucked her flesh. He came up for air, gave her a cheeky smile and then disappeared again. Mariana could not begin to think how it was he could bring her so much pleasure and hold his breath under the water for so long. All she could think about was what his lips and his tongue and his fingers were doing to her. All she could hear was the sound of the water lapping against the side of the tub. And then she heard her own cry of ecstasy before her head went under again.
This time Michael was ready and had a firm hold of her. He knelt to prevent her slipping under again. She found herself in his arms, her legs wrapped around his lean waist and she kissed him with all the strength she could muster. The feeling of weightlessness heightened her senses. Michael needed just one hand to ensure her hips were at the right height before he eased himself inside of her. "Is that okay?" he managed to ask before plunging himself in deeper. Mariana was holding on to his arms for extra support and when she opened her eyes she couldn't help gazing into his eyes, but not for long. Whenever she looked at his face whilst they were making love it always sent her over the edge and she wanted to prolong this wonderful agony. His strength was incredible, the depth and rhythm of his stroke was reflected in his face of which she stole just a glimpse and then savored the supreme concentration of his eyes and the lip he was biting both of which were etched upon her mind now she'd closed her eyes again.
ashore....
Michael struggled to contain his own excitement as he greedily devoured her body. He kept his eyes on Mariana the whole time. Seeing her body barely covered with water was simply too beautiful for words. He knew he should try to resist looking at her if he wanted to keep going, so he attempted to close his eyes and he bit his lips in an effort to hold back. But it was futile. The image of her looking back at him, herself fighting the urge to look down at what he was doing to her, now filled his head and sent him hurtling over the edge towards his own release. Mariana, who had almost given up hope of waiting for him, joined him in his throes and together they washed up against the side of the tub, panting like the survivors of a ship-wreck scrabbling ashore in each others arms.
Hold my hand, feel the touch....
"You okay?" Michael asked. "Yes of c-course," was all the reply Mariana could manage as she nuzzled into Michael's neck and he was suddenly aware of her shivering. "Oh my God!" he said, "The water is freezing." They both jumped out of the bath and put on bathrobes and set about drying each other vigorously. Then, rather foolishly, they attempted to brush each others teeth, but they got toothpaste everywhere and spent the next five minutes trying to rinse it out of their hair. Michael suddenly picked Mariana up and almost ran towards the bed. She lay in the centre and giggled as he set about drying her toes. "Are you ticklish?" he asked slyly. "Noooooo!" she responded unconvincingly. "I think you are!" Michael held her foot fast so she couldn't move it away and proceeded to tickle her feet until she was literally begging for him to stop. "You are such a liar." he admonished pinning her against the bed before he kissed her. "I don't want to go home tomorrow!" she complained breathlessly as Michael planted kisses around her face. "Well stay!" he answered casually, "I don't want you to go. So stay!"
Michael struggled to contain his own excitement as he greedily devoured her body. He kept his eyes on Mariana the whole time. Seeing her body barely covered with water was simply too beautiful for words. He knew he should try to resist looking at her if he wanted to keep going, so he attempted to close his eyes and he bit his lips in an effort to hold back. But it was futile. The image of her looking back at him, herself fighting the urge to look down at what he was doing to her, now filled his head and sent him hurtling over the edge towards his own release. Mariana, who had almost given up hope of waiting for him, joined him in his throes and together they washed up against the side of the tub, panting like the survivors of a ship-wreck scrabbling ashore in each others arms.
Hold my hand, feel the touch....
"You okay?" Michael asked. "Yes of c-course," was all the reply Mariana could manage as she nuzzled into Michael's neck and he was suddenly aware of her shivering. "Oh my God!" he said, "The water is freezing." They both jumped out of the bath and put on bathrobes and set about drying each other vigorously. Then, rather foolishly, they attempted to brush each others teeth, but they got toothpaste everywhere and spent the next five minutes trying to rinse it out of their hair. Michael suddenly picked Mariana up and almost ran towards the bed. She lay in the centre and giggled as he set about drying her toes. "Are you ticklish?" he asked slyly. "Noooooo!" she responded unconvincingly. "I think you are!" Michael held her foot fast so she couldn't move it away and proceeded to tickle her feet until she was literally begging for him to stop. "You are such a liar." he admonished pinning her against the bed before he kissed her. "I don't want to go home tomorrow!" she complained breathlessly as Michael planted kisses around her face. "Well stay!" he answered casually, "I don't want you to go. So stay!"
"But Michael!" Mariana sat upright as he proceeded to play with the belt of her robe.
"You can stay with me!" Michael whispered nuzzling against her belly. "Stay with me whilst I tour!" He looked up at her expectantly.
"Of course, I can't Michael. I have to get back to reality." She immediately regretted her poor choice of words, but returned his gaze, nevertheless.
Michael looked back up at her. His large doe-like eyes looked a little sad, "But this is reality, Mariana!" and crestfallen he added, "It's my reality."
"Oh Michael, I know, I know!" Mariana smoothed his brow and played with his knotted hair, "I didn't mean it like that. I meant that, to me this has all been like a fairy-tale."
"But it is a fairy-tale!" Michael replied, "It's our fairy-tale and I want you to stay." He kissed her fingertips which were close to his mouth and looked up waiting for her response.
"And then what?" Mariana didn't like the way she sounded when she asked the question. She really didn't want to appear to be backing Michael against a wall, but the words just seemed to tumble out of her mouth. Michael leapt onto his knees and brought his face close to hers.
"I don't know, Mariana. You tell me!" He raised his eyebrows almost daring her to speak.
"Well, I don't know, I mean... I don't know!" She was useless at this game. She really didn't know what to say or how to respond. She suddenly felt out of her depth. "I have to go home," she said quietly.
"Hey!" he said lifting her chin with his finger, "Don't be sad, stranger!" He hadn't called her that since they had spoken on the forum on his website and the memory of it made her smile.
"Do you remember when I called you. For the first time?" Mariana asked.
"And you thought I didn't know you were about to call." Michael giggled, "You were talking to me online thinking I was someone else and telling me you were about to call me!" Michael fell backwards laughing hysterically at his own cleverness. Mariana bashed him with a pillow, "Oh, you think you are so clever, don't you?" She continued to hit him with the pillow until he covered his head with his hands and pretended to be hurt.
"OOOOwwww, Mariana, stop!" He was still half-laughing, but preparing himself to launch his own attack.
"Will you listen to me, Michael?" She protested, but she couldn't help smiling at his reaction. "You sang to me! Do you remember?"
"Sure, of course, I remember, silly!" Michael moved closer to her again.
"It was lovely, Michael!" she purred, "I was all tucked up in my bed and Michael Jackson was singing to me. Just me!" she added. "Can you remember what you sang to me?"
"I sang lots of songs to you. And you knew nothing about The Jacksons!" he teased.
"That is not true!" she scolded, "And anyway, you still can't remember what you sang to me!"
"Mmmmm! Let me think...!" Michael stalled pretending to wrack his brains.
"See! You don't remember!" she fell back on the pillows almost victorious. Slowly, Michael crept up over her body reaching over to switch off all the lights in the suite, he pulled the sheets over both of them and lowered himself on top of her. And then he sang, punctuating the lyrics with long, deep kisses:
Hold my hand, feel the touch of your body cling to mine,
You and me, makin’ love all the way through another night
I remember, you and I, walking through the park at night
Kiss and touch, nothing much, let it blow just touch and go...
You're a Parasite in Black and White
Mariana enjoyed meeting Michael's children at breakfast the next day. They were beautiful, funny and sweet just like their father. Michael was clearly in his element around them and they had clearly inherited his sense of fun and mischief making. They teased their father about the number of girls who had fainted at last night's concert and they couldn't resist trying to impersonate some of his dance moves for Mariana who was laughing so much she couldn't stop. It was a bittersweet occasion because Mariana knew she would be leaving today. Deep down Michael knew she had to get back to her own life and they exchanged glances in between all the carousal that expressed their disappointment that their time together was coming to an end.
Michael arranged for Tom to take Mariana back to the airport and after saying goodbye to the children she'd only just met, she and Michael exchanged a rather awkward goodbye.
"Well, let me know when you get home?" Michael asked.
"I will. Bye then!" Mariana tried to smile, but instead she felt her face crumple and her eyes water.
"Hey, buddy!" Michael tried to lighten the mood, "We'll talk soon, ‘kay?" They exchanged a quick peck on the cheek and all too soon Mariana was following Tom down to the car park.
Michael spent the rest of the morning with his children and then Frank joined them in order to brief Michael on the day's events.
"Where's Mariana?"
"She had to go home."
"What?"
"She had to go, Frank." Michael repeated, "She has a job."
"Mike, you should'a told me!" Frank was clearly worried.
"What d'ya mean?" asked Michael.
"Michael, have you seen the papers today? And yesterday's?"
"But Michael!" Mariana sat upright as he proceeded to play with the belt of her robe.
"You can stay with me!" Michael whispered nuzzling against her belly. "Stay with me whilst I tour!" He looked up at her expectantly.
"Of course, I can't Michael. I have to get back to reality." She immediately regretted her poor choice of words, but returned his gaze, nevertheless.
Michael looked back up at her. His large doe-like eyes looked a little sad, "But this is reality, Mariana!" and crestfallen he added, "It's my reality."
"Oh Michael, I know, I know!" Mariana smoothed his brow and played with his knotted hair, "I didn't mean it like that. I meant that, to me this has all been like a fairy-tale."
"But it is a fairy-tale!" Michael replied, "It's our fairy-tale and I want you to stay." He kissed her fingertips which were close to his mouth and looked up waiting for her response.
"And then what?" Mariana didn't like the way she sounded when she asked the question. She really didn't want to appear to be backing Michael against a wall, but the words just seemed to tumble out of her mouth. Michael leapt onto his knees and brought his face close to hers.
"I don't know, Mariana. You tell me!" He raised his eyebrows almost daring her to speak.
"Well, I don't know, I mean... I don't know!" She was useless at this game. She really didn't know what to say or how to respond. She suddenly felt out of her depth. "I have to go home," she said quietly.
"Hey!" he said lifting her chin with his finger, "Don't be sad, stranger!" He hadn't called her that since they had spoken on the forum on his website and the memory of it made her smile.
"Do you remember when I called you. For the first time?" Mariana asked.
"And you thought I didn't know you were about to call." Michael giggled, "You were talking to me online thinking I was someone else and telling me you were about to call me!" Michael fell backwards laughing hysterically at his own cleverness. Mariana bashed him with a pillow, "Oh, you think you are so clever, don't you?" She continued to hit him with the pillow until he covered his head with his hands and pretended to be hurt.
"OOOOwwww, Mariana, stop!" He was still half-laughing, but preparing himself to launch his own attack.
"Will you listen to me, Michael?" She protested, but she couldn't help smiling at his reaction. "You sang to me! Do you remember?"
"Sure, of course, I remember, silly!" Michael moved closer to her again.
"It was lovely, Michael!" she purred, "I was all tucked up in my bed and Michael Jackson was singing to me. Just me!" she added. "Can you remember what you sang to me?"
"I sang lots of songs to you. And you knew nothing about The Jacksons!" he teased.
"That is not true!" she scolded, "And anyway, you still can't remember what you sang to me!"
"Mmmmm! Let me think...!" Michael stalled pretending to wrack his brains.
"See! You don't remember!" she fell back on the pillows almost victorious. Slowly, Michael crept up over her body reaching over to switch off all the lights in the suite, he pulled the sheets over both of them and lowered himself on top of her. And then he sang, punctuating the lyrics with long, deep kisses:
Hold my hand, feel the touch of your body cling to mine,
You and me, makin’ love all the way through another night
I remember, you and I, walking through the park at night
Kiss and touch, nothing much, let it blow just touch and go...
You're a Parasite in Black and White
Mariana enjoyed meeting Michael's children at breakfast the next day. They were beautiful, funny and sweet just like their father. Michael was clearly in his element around them and they had clearly inherited his sense of fun and mischief making. They teased their father about the number of girls who had fainted at last night's concert and they couldn't resist trying to impersonate some of his dance moves for Mariana who was laughing so much she couldn't stop. It was a bittersweet occasion because Mariana knew she would be leaving today. Deep down Michael knew she had to get back to her own life and they exchanged glances in between all the carousal that expressed their disappointment that their time together was coming to an end.
Michael arranged for Tom to take Mariana back to the airport and after saying goodbye to the children she'd only just met, she and Michael exchanged a rather awkward goodbye.
"Well, let me know when you get home?" Michael asked.
"I will. Bye then!" Mariana tried to smile, but instead she felt her face crumple and her eyes water.
"Hey, buddy!" Michael tried to lighten the mood, "We'll talk soon, ‘kay?" They exchanged a quick peck on the cheek and all too soon Mariana was following Tom down to the car park.
Michael spent the rest of the morning with his children and then Frank joined them in order to brief Michael on the day's events.
"Where's Mariana?"
"She had to go home."
"What?"
"She had to go, Frank." Michael repeated, "She has a job."
"Mike, you should'a told me!" Frank was clearly worried.
"What d'ya mean?" asked Michael.
"Michael, have you seen the papers today? And yesterday's?"
"You can stay with me!" Michael whispered nuzzling against her belly. "Stay with me whilst I tour!" He looked up at her expectantly.
"Of course, I can't Michael. I have to get back to reality." She immediately regretted her poor choice of words, but returned his gaze, nevertheless.
Michael looked back up at her. His large doe-like eyes looked a little sad, "But this is reality, Mariana!" and crestfallen he added, "It's my reality."
"Oh Michael, I know, I know!" Mariana smoothed his brow and played with his knotted hair, "I didn't mean it like that. I meant that, to me this has all been like a fairy-tale."
"But it is a fairy-tale!" Michael replied, "It's our fairy-tale and I want you to stay." He kissed her fingertips which were close to his mouth and looked up waiting for her response.
"And then what?" Mariana didn't like the way she sounded when she asked the question. She really didn't want to appear to be backing Michael against a wall, but the words just seemed to tumble out of her mouth. Michael leapt onto his knees and brought his face close to hers.
"I don't know, Mariana. You tell me!" He raised his eyebrows almost daring her to speak.
"Well, I don't know, I mean... I don't know!" She was useless at this game. She really didn't know what to say or how to respond. She suddenly felt out of her depth. "I have to go home," she said quietly.
"Hey!" he said lifting her chin with his finger, "Don't be sad, stranger!" He hadn't called her that since they had spoken on the forum on his website and the memory of it made her smile.
"Do you remember when I called you. For the first time?" Mariana asked.
"And you thought I didn't know you were about to call." Michael giggled, "You were talking to me online thinking I was someone else and telling me you were about to call me!" Michael fell backwards laughing hysterically at his own cleverness. Mariana bashed him with a pillow, "Oh, you think you are so clever, don't you?" She continued to hit him with the pillow until he covered his head with his hands and pretended to be hurt.
"OOOOwwww, Mariana, stop!" He was still half-laughing, but preparing himself to launch his own attack.
"Will you listen to me, Michael?" She protested, but she couldn't help smiling at his reaction. "You sang to me! Do you remember?"
"Sure, of course, I remember, silly!" Michael moved closer to her again.
"It was lovely, Michael!" she purred, "I was all tucked up in my bed and Michael Jackson was singing to me. Just me!" she added. "Can you remember what you sang to me?"
"I sang lots of songs to you. And you knew nothing about The Jacksons!" he teased.
"That is not true!" she scolded, "And anyway, you still can't remember what you sang to me!"
"Mmmmm! Let me think...!" Michael stalled pretending to wrack his brains.
"See! You don't remember!" she fell back on the pillows almost victorious. Slowly, Michael crept up over her body reaching over to switch off all the lights in the suite, he pulled the sheets over both of them and lowered himself on top of her. And then he sang, punctuating the lyrics with long, deep kisses:
Hold my hand, feel the touch of your body cling to mine,
You and me, makin’ love all the way through another night
I remember, you and I, walking through the park at night
Kiss and touch, nothing much, let it blow just touch and go...
You're a Parasite in Black and White
Mariana enjoyed meeting Michael's children at breakfast the next day. They were beautiful, funny and sweet just like their father. Michael was clearly in his element around them and they had clearly inherited his sense of fun and mischief making. They teased their father about the number of girls who had fainted at last night's concert and they couldn't resist trying to impersonate some of his dance moves for Mariana who was laughing so much she couldn't stop. It was a bittersweet occasion because Mariana knew she would be leaving today. Deep down Michael knew she had to get back to her own life and they exchanged glances in between all the carousal that expressed their disappointment that their time together was coming to an end.
Michael arranged for Tom to take Mariana back to the airport and after saying goodbye to the children she'd only just met, she and Michael exchanged a rather awkward goodbye.
"Well, let me know when you get home?" Michael asked.
"I will. Bye then!" Mariana tried to smile, but instead she felt her face crumple and her eyes water.
"Hey, buddy!" Michael tried to lighten the mood, "We'll talk soon, ‘kay?" They exchanged a quick peck on the cheek and all too soon Mariana was following Tom down to the car park.
Michael spent the rest of the morning with his children and then Frank joined them in order to brief Michael on the day's events.
"Where's Mariana?"
"She had to go home."
"What?"
"She had to go, Frank." Michael repeated, "She has a job."
"Mike, you should'a told me!" Frank was clearly worried.
"What d'ya mean?" asked Michael.
"Michael, have you seen the papers today? And yesterday's?"
"No, what delights have they come up with now?" Michael asked, without batting an eyelid.
"This time it's not you. It's Mariana!" Frank continued, "Michael, she will need security as soon as she lands!"
Wearing sunglasses to hide her red eyes Mariana was oblivious to some of the looks she was receiving at the airport. Tom noticed, however, and wasted no time getting Mariana to the check-in desk. "Tom!" Mariana suddenly stopped, "Check-in is over there!" Tom informed her that Michael had upgraded her ticket to first class. "Oh!" said Mariana surprised. "Have a good flight, Mariana," said Tom as they walked towards the First Class departure lounge, "And take care of yourself my girl!" Mariana removed her sunglasses and smiled, "I will Tom! And thank you for everything!" She gave him a peck on the cheek and made her way into the lounge.
She was met by two very good-looking and immaculately presented stewards who were standing behind a reception desk. She felt quite self-conscious as she gave her name as both stewards seemed to eye her strangely, but she passed it off and was escorted to a sun-lounger (the lounge looked like a Caribbean island complete with grass huts and palm trees.) Mariana made herself comfortable and was just about to select a magazine from one of the many laid out on a table next to the her when the other steward suddenly rushed over and grabbed all of the magazines in his arms. "I'm sorry, Senorita!" he gabbled, "These are yesterday's!" To Mariana amusement he laughed a little too loudly. "Let me get some more for you!" he continued. The other steward returned with champagne and strawberries. "Perhaps Senorita would care to sit over here?" Mariana who had made herself quite comfortable was bemused by their behaviour, but thought it was simply the quirks of traveling first class and she followed the steward to a more secluded area within the lounge and was given a selection of fashion magazines to browse.
She smiled at one of the articles, "How to Have Great Sex" and her mind drifted back to Michael. She smiled as she remembered their love-making: the first time during the thunderstorm, kissing in the bookshop, making love whilst reading poetry to each other, in the shower, the bathtub and then there was last night. She had lost count of the number of times they had made love last night, each time she thought her body had given up and she'd tripped into the land of slumber, Michael began again and each time was sweeter than the last. She smiled as she recalled the feeling of being gently aroused each time as Michael worked his magic on her.
She didn't have too long to wait before she was escorted on to the plane. "Wow!" she thought, "So this is how the other half travel." There was none of the stress of wandering aimlessly around shops or desperately trying to discover which gate you had to find. Everything was done for you. You didn't have to think. And on board the plane! Well no wonder those traveling economy were packed in like sardines, there was acres of space here and her seat wasn't so much of a seat as a space capsule, beautifully fitted with everything you could possible need. It wasn't that long into the flight before she received a call from Michael's manager, Frank.
Leave Me Alone
Mariana felt agitated as she sat in the back of a chauffeur driven car surrounded by security personnel. Frank had told her that some of her old friends, if she could now call them that, had started selling stories in response to a huge amount of media curiosity about her. He told her that much of the tabloid press as well as some of the entertainment channels were carrying stories about her past, including ex-boyfriends who had been persuaded to spill the beans. No wonder the stewards back at the airport had behaved so strangely. Mariana was desperate to see what had been written because she really didn't know whether to feel embarrassed or angry. What would Michael think? And then she suddenly felt sick as the memory of one particular ex-boyfriend came back to haunt her.
"Hello Mrs Papadopoulos!" Mariana tried to sound cheery as she passed her neighbour on the staircase. "Hello, dear!" she replied. "Did you have a nice holiday?" "Yes, thank you. It was lovely, Mrs Papadopoulos." But Mariana could see her neighbour wasn't really listening and who could blame her as Mariana was surrounded by a small crowd, as it seemed to Mrs Papadopoulos, of rather large, well-suited men all wearing shades and earpieces. Mrs Papadopoulos stood against the wall as the crowd passed and then suddenly coming back to her senses again, called, "Oh, by the way my dear, I meant to say, your door is ajar. I just noticed it on my way out." Mariana froze. Her neighbour continued, "I thought you were back already, my dear!" "What?" said Mariana looking back in disbelief. She couldn't possibly have left it open!
Mariana's headache was blinding. She dreaded to think what had happened and was growing increasingly restless and upset. She waited outside her own apartment with one of the security personnel whilst the other three men went inside to look around. Eventually one of them came back to inform her that nobody seemed to be inside but that it was clear her possessions had been rifled. There was quite a mess. He told Mariana she should look around herself and then call the police. Meanwhile, he would make arrangements to find hotel accommodations. Her answerphone was flashing madly and she began to listen to an array of panic-stricken friends and family concerned about her well-being. It was the last one that surprised her the most:
"Mariana? It's your Mother, dear." as if Mariana wouldn't recognise the sound of her own Mother's voice. "Please call us, Mariana!" Mariana listened, "We feel terrible about the story!" Mariana was confused. "We really didn't realise what we were doing, Mariana! Richard called." Mariana's heart stopped. Richard? No, please, no! "We gave him your address, dear. Well I did! Your father told me not to, but it was too late! Please call us, Mariana. Let us know you...." The end of the message was cut off.
Mariana was listening but she couldn't really take it all in. She sat on the sofa in the middle of her own apartment whilst the police came and took photographs and asked questions. She had no idea what had just happened: one minute she had been living in a dream world with Michael, the next, her life had turned into some kind of nightmarish hell. Who would have broken into her apartment and why? Not Richard. He couldn't have, surely?
She was met by two very good-looking and immaculately presented stewards who were standing behind a reception desk. She felt quite self-conscious as she gave her name as both stewards seemed to eye her strangely, but she passed it off and was escorted to a sun-lounger (the lounge looked like a Caribbean island complete with grass huts and palm trees.) Mariana made herself comfortable and was just about to select a magazine from one of the many laid out on a table next to the her when the other steward suddenly rushed over and grabbed all of the magazines in his arms. "I'm sorry, Senorita!" he gabbled, "These are yesterday's!" To Mariana amusement he laughed a little too loudly. "Let me get some more for you!" he continued. The other steward returned with champagne and strawberries. "Perhaps Senorita would care to sit over here?" Mariana who had made herself quite comfortable was bemused by their behaviour, but thought it was simply the quirks of traveling first class and she followed the steward to a more secluded area within the lounge and was given a selection of fashion magazines to browse.
She smiled at one of the articles, "How to Have Great Sex" and her mind drifted back to Michael. She smiled as she remembered their love-making: the first time during the thunderstorm, kissing in the bookshop, making love whilst reading poetry to each other, in the shower, the bathtub and then there was last night. She had lost count of the number of times they had made love last night, each time she thought her body had given up and she'd tripped into the land of slumber, Michael began again and each time was sweeter than the last. She smiled as she recalled the feeling of being gently aroused each time as Michael worked his magic on her.
She didn't have too long to wait before she was escorted on to the plane. "Wow!" she thought, "So this is how the other half travel." There was none of the stress of wandering aimlessly around shops or desperately trying to discover which gate you had to find. Everything was done for you. You didn't have to think. And on board the plane! Well no wonder those traveling economy were packed in like sardines, there was acres of space here and her seat wasn't so much of a seat as a space capsule, beautifully fitted with everything you could possible need. It wasn't that long into the flight before she received a call from Michael's manager, Frank.
Leave Me Alone
Mariana felt agitated as she sat in the back of a chauffeur driven car surrounded by security personnel. Frank had told her that some of her old friends, if she could now call them that, had started selling stories in response to a huge amount of media curiosity about her. He told her that much of the tabloid press as well as some of the entertainment channels were carrying stories about her past, including ex-boyfriends who had been persuaded to spill the beans. No wonder the stewards back at the airport had behaved so strangely. Mariana was desperate to see what had been written because she really didn't know whether to feel embarrassed or angry. What would Michael think? And then she suddenly felt sick as the memory of one particular ex-boyfriend came back to haunt her.
"Hello Mrs Papadopoulos!" Mariana tried to sound cheery as she passed her neighbour on the staircase. "Hello, dear!" she replied. "Did you have a nice holiday?" "Yes, thank you. It was lovely, Mrs Papadopoulos." But Mariana could see her neighbour wasn't really listening and who could blame her as Mariana was surrounded by a small crowd, as it seemed to Mrs Papadopoulos, of rather large, well-suited men all wearing shades and earpieces. Mrs Papadopoulos stood against the wall as the crowd passed and then suddenly coming back to her senses again, called, "Oh, by the way my dear, I meant to say, your door is ajar. I just noticed it on my way out." Mariana froze. Her neighbour continued, "I thought you were back already, my dear!" "What?" said Mariana looking back in disbelief. She couldn't possibly have left it open!
Mariana's headache was blinding. She dreaded to think what had happened and was growing increasingly restless and upset. She waited outside her own apartment with one of the security personnel whilst the other three men went inside to look around. Eventually one of them came back to inform her that nobody seemed to be inside but that it was clear her possessions had been rifled. There was quite a mess. He told Mariana she should look around herself and then call the police. Meanwhile, he would make arrangements to find hotel accommodations. Her answerphone was flashing madly and she began to listen to an array of panic-stricken friends and family concerned about her well-being. It was the last one that surprised her the most:
"Mariana? It's your Mother, dear." as if Mariana wouldn't recognise the sound of her own Mother's voice. "Please call us, Mariana!" Mariana listened, "We feel terrible about the story!" Mariana was confused. "We really didn't realise what we were doing, Mariana! Richard called." Mariana's heart stopped. Richard? No, please, no! "We gave him your address, dear. Well I did! Your father told me not to, but it was too late! Please call us, Mariana. Let us know you...." The end of the message was cut off.
Mariana was listening but she couldn't really take it all in. She sat on the sofa in the middle of her own apartment whilst the police came and took photographs and asked questions. She had no idea what had just happened: one minute she had been living in a dream world with Michael, the next, her life had turned into some kind of nightmarish hell. Who would have broken into her apartment and why? Not Richard. He couldn't have, surely?
On the way to the hotel, later on that evening, Mariana persuaded the security team she needed to know what was being said about her in the newspapers. Reluctantly, they agreed and accompanied her to a newsstand where she purchased an armful of newspapers and magazines all running stories about Michael or herself. The headlines were crazy and her mind was spinning.
June 2005
She heard the car approach her parents' farmhouse and looked up out of the window. Sure enough there it was a brand new glistening silver Mercedes looking completely at odds next to her father's rusty old Chevy truck that to his pride was still as reliable today as it was the day he bought it over twenty years ago. Mariana smiled. It was a beautiful day and it would be nice to go for a picnic in the countryside. She grabbed a yellow cardigan and threw it on over her white summers dress and ran downstairs. She could hear voices coming from the kitchen, but before she got there, he had opened the door and was walking towards her.
"Good morning, beautiful!" he said flashing that brilliant white smile of his. God! He looked so handsome thought Mariana and even though he was several years younger than she was he had a habit of making her feel like a princess. She kissed his cheek and noticed her parents looking at them in the kitchen. They were smiling and her father had his arm around her mother who was holding a tissue to her face. "Is everything okay?" asked Mariana, moving towards them.
"It's fine, Mariana!" said her Mother picking up a picnic basket from the kitchen table "You two go and enjoy your day, okay?"
"Okay!" Mariana took the basket but she still wasn't convinced, "C'mon Richard I know you are dying to get behind the wheel."
Richard flashed that winning grin at her parents and together they walked out to the car.
They raced along the winding country roads and even though Richard was driving a little too fast, Mariana decided not to say anything.
"So what d'ya think?" he asked giving her a sideways glance.
"It's nice Richard! You deserve it, you've worked hard!"
Richard smiled and looked back at the road. "Sure have! Hey, what about here?"
"Perfect, I love it here."
Richard pulled off the road and Mariana carried the picnic basket over a gate which led to a footpath. "Hang on, I've brought a newspaper!" Richard called heading back to the car.
"A newspaper! Richard, it's a beautiful day, and we have a picnic!" Mariana protested.
"I just wanna catch up on the news is all!" Richard winked and grabbed the paper anyway. "Come on! I'll race you!" he said banging the newspaper on her head.
Mariana tried to keep up but she didn't want to ruin the strawberry meringues she had made specially.
Eventually they came to a hidden enclave under a tree. They were quite high up here so the view of the countryside was quite breathtaking. Rolling green hills formed the backdrop to a patchwork of fields of corn and barley and green fields where cows grazed nonchalantly in the midday sun. Here and there were dotted red barns and the occasional tractor rumbled by on the road behind them.
Mariana laid out out the picnic blanket and set about arranging the food whilst Richard threw himself down and opened up the newspaper.
"I see your idol's made the headlines yet again, Mariana" he cajoled.
Mariana ignored him. But he continued anyway.
"You don't really still like him, do you?"
Mariana knew where this conversation was heading. How she was tired of having to justify herself. She loved Michael Jackson. So what? When were people going to give her a break and why oh why did people bring him up every conversation. What did they think she was his spokesperson or something? She felt a bubble of anger pop inside her stomach, but decided to change the subject anyway. "Here, try a strawberry meringue, Richard!"
"No thanks! I have to maintain my physique!" he replied flexing his muscles. " Ha look at this! There is no way this guy is innocent. Look at him!"
Richard pushed the paper in Mariana's face. Michael Jackson's face stared back at her. He looked tired and crestfallen. In his eyes she could almost see reflected the media circus before him. She bit her lip, but still she decided not to say anything.
"Ugh! You love him don't you?" Richard's face darkened, "He's a freak, Mariana! And you're a grown woman. Get over him already!"
"Richard, please stop this!" Mariana was tired, "I don't want to talk about Michael Jackson! We are supposed to be having a picnic. Look it's a beautiful day!"
"C'mere!" Richard put the newspaper down and looked over at Mariana who was eating one of her strawberry meringues. "Don't eat that. You'll get fat! Come over here, I said"
Mariana sighed and put the meringues back in the basket. Reluctantly she went over and sat down by his side. Why did he always have to be so mean? She tried so hard not to argue, but why did he do this to her? He could be so kind and attentive and then suddenly he would turn. She really didn't know what to make of him at times.
"Mariana!" his tone had softened and he looked her in the eye, "You look very beautiful today, you know that right?"
Mariana tried to smile, but she was still uncomfortable about the things he had just said. "C'mere, Mariana!" He began unbuttoning her cardigan and pulled it off her shoulders. Then he ran his hands gently up and down her bare arms. Mariana flinched when he began circling her nipples with his thumbs.
"I like this dress, Mariana." he cooed, "It's soooo pretty! You're so pretty!" He bared his teeth as he took a sharp intake of breath. His hands had now moved down her dress and he began pushing it up over her thighs.
"Don't Richard!" Mariana tried not to overreact, "I'm not ready yet!" She flinched.
"Mariana, it's been three whole months!" Richard showed no sign of stopping, "Don't make me wait any longer. You're a big girl now you know!" He tried to separate her legs.
"No!" She said firmly. "I really don't want to do this. Not yet. Please Richard!" Mariana moved away and began tidying up some of the food. Richard knelt behind her and grabbed her wrists, "C'mon Mariana! You know you want to." She struggled but he wouldn't let go. He turned her around so she was facing him. "C'mon, baby! Give in to me!" He suddenly grinned, "That's one of your favourite songs isn't it?" he mocked, "You can pretend I'm your little King!" He pressed his body on top of hers and forced her to the ground, "Cos I am on fire! Quench my desire! Give it to meee!" He was laughing and forcing his hands up her dress. Mariana was shocked, but quite helpless as he pinned her to the ground.
"W-what the hell are you d-doing? Get off of m-me!" she stammered. Suddenly they heard voices walking along the footpath behind them. Richard sprang up and fumbled around for a can of lemonade in the basket. Mariana was shaking, but tried to smooth out her dress.
She heard the car approach her parents' farmhouse and looked up out of the window. Sure enough there it was a brand new glistening silver Mercedes looking completely at odds next to her father's rusty old Chevy truck that to his pride was still as reliable today as it was the day he bought it over twenty years ago. Mariana smiled. It was a beautiful day and it would be nice to go for a picnic in the countryside. She grabbed a yellow cardigan and threw it on over her white summers dress and ran downstairs. She could hear voices coming from the kitchen, but before she got there, he had opened the door and was walking towards her.
"Good morning, beautiful!" he said flashing that brilliant white smile of his. God! He looked so handsome thought Mariana and even though he was several years younger than she was he had a habit of making her feel like a princess. She kissed his cheek and noticed her parents looking at them in the kitchen. They were smiling and her father had his arm around her mother who was holding a tissue to her face. "Is everything okay?" asked Mariana, moving towards them.
"It's fine, Mariana!" said her Mother picking up a picnic basket from the kitchen table "You two go and enjoy your day, okay?"
"Okay!" Mariana took the basket but she still wasn't convinced, "C'mon Richard I know you are dying to get behind the wheel."
Richard flashed that winning grin at her parents and together they walked out to the car.
They raced along the winding country roads and even though Richard was driving a little too fast, Mariana decided not to say anything.
"So what d'ya think?" he asked giving her a sideways glance.
"It's nice Richard! You deserve it, you've worked hard!"
Richard smiled and looked back at the road. "Sure have! Hey, what about here?"
"Perfect, I love it here."
Richard pulled off the road and Mariana carried the picnic basket over a gate which led to a footpath. "Hang on, I've brought a newspaper!" Richard called heading back to the car.
"A newspaper! Richard, it's a beautiful day, and we have a picnic!" Mariana protested.
"I just wanna catch up on the news is all!" Richard winked and grabbed the paper anyway. "Come on! I'll race you!" he said banging the newspaper on her head.
Mariana tried to keep up but she didn't want to ruin the strawberry meringues she had made specially.
Eventually they came to a hidden enclave under a tree. They were quite high up here so the view of the countryside was quite breathtaking. Rolling green hills formed the backdrop to a patchwork of fields of corn and barley and green fields where cows grazed nonchalantly in the midday sun. Here and there were dotted red barns and the occasional tractor rumbled by on the road behind them.
Mariana laid out out the picnic blanket and set about arranging the food whilst Richard threw himself down and opened up the newspaper.
"I see your idol's made the headlines yet again, Mariana" he cajoled.
Mariana ignored him. But he continued anyway.
"You don't really still like him, do you?"
Mariana knew where this conversation was heading. How she was tired of having to justify herself. She loved Michael Jackson. So what? When were people going to give her a break and why oh why did people bring him up every conversation. What did they think she was his spokesperson or something? She felt a bubble of anger pop inside her stomach, but decided to change the subject anyway. "Here, try a strawberry meringue, Richard!"
"No thanks! I have to maintain my physique!" he replied flexing his muscles. " Ha look at this! There is no way this guy is innocent. Look at him!"
Richard pushed the paper in Mariana's face. Michael Jackson's face stared back at her. He looked tired and crestfallen. In his eyes she could almost see reflected the media circus before him. She bit her lip, but still she decided not to say anything.
"Ugh! You love him don't you?" Richard's face darkened, "He's a freak, Mariana! And you're a grown woman. Get over him already!"
"Richard, please stop this!" Mariana was tired, "I don't want to talk about Michael Jackson! We are supposed to be having a picnic. Look it's a beautiful day!"
"C'mere!" Richard put the newspaper down and looked over at Mariana who was eating one of her strawberry meringues. "Don't eat that. You'll get fat! Come over here, I said"
Mariana sighed and put the meringues back in the basket. Reluctantly she went over and sat down by his side. Why did he always have to be so mean? She tried so hard not to argue, but why did he do this to her? He could be so kind and attentive and then suddenly he would turn. She really didn't know what to make of him at times.
"Mariana!" his tone had softened and he looked her in the eye, "You look very beautiful today, you know that right?"
Mariana tried to smile, but she was still uncomfortable about the things he had just said. "C'mere, Mariana!" He began unbuttoning her cardigan and pulled it off her shoulders. Then he ran his hands gently up and down her bare arms. Mariana flinched when he began circling her nipples with his thumbs.
"I like this dress, Mariana." he cooed, "It's soooo pretty! You're so pretty!" He bared his teeth as he took a sharp intake of breath. His hands had now moved down her dress and he began pushing it up over her thighs.
"Don't Richard!" Mariana tried not to overreact, "I'm not ready yet!" She flinched.
"Mariana, it's been three whole months!" Richard showed no sign of stopping, "Don't make me wait any longer. You're a big girl now you know!" He tried to separate her legs.
"No!" She said firmly. "I really don't want to do this. Not yet. Please Richard!" Mariana moved away and began tidying up some of the food. Richard knelt behind her and grabbed her wrists, "C'mon Mariana! You know you want to." She struggled but he wouldn't let go. He turned her around so she was facing him. "C'mon, baby! Give in to me!" He suddenly grinned, "That's one of your favourite songs isn't it?" he mocked, "You can pretend I'm your little King!" He pressed his body on top of hers and forced her to the ground, "Cos I am on fire! Quench my desire! Give it to meee!" He was laughing and forcing his hands up her dress. Mariana was shocked, but quite helpless as he pinned her to the ground.
"W-what the hell are you d-doing? Get off of m-me!" she stammered. Suddenly they heard voices walking along the footpath behind them. Richard sprang up and fumbled around for a can of lemonade in the basket. Mariana was shaking, but tried to smooth out her dress.
An elderly couple walked past. "Hello!" called Richard, flashing a grin in their direction, "Beautiful day for a walk, isn't it?"
Present Day again
Mariana shuddered and looked again at one of the headlines:
"MONEY-GRABBING MARIANA BEGGED ME TO MARRY HER."
And splashed across the banner at the top of the page was a photograph of Richard crouching in front of one of his flashy cars: EX-BEAU SPILLS THE BEANS ON JACKO'S GREEDY GOLD-DIGGING GIRL...
Mariana looked at the main photograph which unsurprisingly was one of Michael performing on stage. His face expressed anger and his finger was raised accusingly. Mariana almost laughed aloud when she read the caption: "Time after time I gave you all of my money." The multi-millionaire, self-proclaimed King of Pop needs to watch his back according to ex-beau Richard Tompkinson.
Mariana shuddered and looked again at one of the headlines:
"MONEY-GRABBING MARIANA BEGGED ME TO MARRY HER."
And splashed across the banner at the top of the page was a photograph of Richard crouching in front of one of his flashy cars: EX-BEAU SPILLS THE BEANS ON JACKO'S GREEDY GOLD-DIGGING GIRL...
Mariana looked at the main photograph which unsurprisingly was one of Michael performing on stage. His face expressed anger and his finger was raised accusingly. Mariana almost laughed aloud when she read the caption: "Time after time I gave you all of my money." The multi-millionaire, self-proclaimed King of Pop needs to watch his back according to ex-beau Richard Tompkinson.
Mariana had pushed her life and all her past into the deepest corners of her mind whilst she had been with Michael. It was like she had been floating in the present: the past and the future just didn't seem to exist anymore. And now her eyes were well and truly open, unblinking, hardly believing what she was seeing in front of her. And worse, what Michael would no doubt be seeing. Mariana dropped her head into her hands and sighed. She'd always known Richard was a scumbag, but she would never have dreamed he would ever stoop this low. She felt shame and embarrassment. As if Michael needed more negative press. Would he even want to talk to her again?
Mariana had been escorted by Michael's security team through the lobby of some hotel. She didn't notice which one. She felt weak and exhausted and she only wanted to lie down. The head of the security team took Mariana to her room and wished her a good night. "I'm staying at this hotel, Miss. If you need anything you can call me on this number," he said handing her a card. Mariana thanked him and closed the door.
She threw herself fully-dressed onto the hotel bed. It was cold, but she didn't have the energy to get up and adjust the air-con or change into her night things. Hot tears gathered and began streaming down her face onto the pillow. She felt like an idiot. Who had she been kidding? She didn't belong with Michael Jackson. He didn't need some girl with an unscrupulous, lousy ex. Who was she to think that he would? The headlines stabbed her eyes and whirled around her sore head. Who would come out of the woodwork next? She sat up suddenly and looked around the luxury hotel suite. She certainly didn't belong here, wallowing in self-pity at Michael's expense. She went into the bathroom and filled her cupped hands with cold water which she pressed with relief against her face. Mariana stared at her own reflection. She looked tired, drained and disheveled. Before she could begin crying again, she picked up her bags and, after checking the way was clear, made her way back to the hotel lobby and out into the chilly night air.
Mariana didn't have a clue where to go so, rather than looking lost in an unfamiliar part of town, she began walking purposefully. She would find a diner or cafe that was still open and think about her options. She found a deli that, miraculously, was still open and serving coffee and food. She ordered a ham and brie baguette which came stuffed to the gunnels with an assortment of other goodies. She was suddenly ravenous. Mariana put her small travel bag under the table and then retrieved her phone from her handbag and placed it on the table before her. A waitress brought her order to the table and smiled at Mariana. "You look tired, my dear. Enjoy!"
Mariana took a huge bite of the baguette and savoured the taste of the salty ham and the creamy brie. The smell of her coffee alone was enough to revive her senses and she suddenly knew what she wanted to do. Call Michael. It suddenly seemed the most obvious thing in the world. His was the only voice she desperately wanted to hear. He'd know what to do. She already felt like a fool for leaving the safety of the hotel and he'd most likely tell her to go back there. Still, she wanted to hear him speak to her. She felt warm just thinking about it. She was thinking logically again, thanks to the food in her stomach.
She worked hard to contain herself as she listened for his phone to ring and was so disappointed when she was redirected to his voicemail. She left a short message saying she was okay and that she looked forward to talking soon. Almost as soon as she had placed the phone back on the table she jumped as it started ringing and bouncing around on the glass top table.
"Hello?" she gushed still fumbling with the phone in her hand.
"Maria? It's me!" Michael's familiar voice was like medicine. Mariana closed her eyes with relief.
"Hey stranger!" She smiled as he chuckled at her words.
"Maria. You sound sad. Are you sad?" Michael asked sensing the reason behind Mariana's call.
"Michael, I'm devastated!" Mariana bit her lip as she waited for his reply.
"Please don't be sad. This is just to be expected. It comes with the territory as they say." Mariana smiled at Michael's kind words. "I was too relaxed about everything. I let them get to us and I feel terrible. I just want to be with you right now," he continued.
Mariana forgot to speak, she was listening to his voice, it soothed and calmed and reminded her of the first time they had spoken on the phone.
"Hey girl! Are you still there?"
Mariana giggled. "Of course I am!" She replied.
"Just remember," Michael continued and then he started singing, "All I wanna say is that they don't really care about us..."
"Where are you?" He stopped abruptly. He could hear a coffee machine and voices in the background.
"I'm in a deli. Just down the road from the hotel you arranged for me."
"Are you with someone?"
No. I'm on my own. Why?"
"Mariana!" Michael sounded cross. "What do you think you are doing? Please go back to the hotel. I need to know you are safe. Okay?"
"I will!" Mariana promised. "I just need to clear my head. And eat. And hear your voice..." Mariana's voice trailed off. "Michael?"
"Yes, my darling." His voice was so gentle and full of love it took Mariana's breath away and she almost forgot what she was going to say.
"Somebody broke into my apartment."
"I know, I know." Michael soothed, "I've already got my people talking to the police. "We will find out if it's connected to us. Hopefully it isn't. But I want you to go back to the hotel now. I'll talk to you there."
"Okay. Michael?" Mariana felt a surge of relief flood through every vessel in her body.
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She threw herself fully-dressed onto the hotel bed. It was cold, but she didn't have the energy to get up and adjust the air-con or change into her night things. Hot tears gathered and began streaming down her face onto the pillow. She felt like an idiot. Who had she been kidding? She didn't belong with Michael Jackson. He didn't need some girl with an unscrupulous, lousy ex. Who was she to think that he would? The headlines stabbed her eyes and whirled around her sore head. Who would come out of the woodwork next? She sat up suddenly and looked around the luxury hotel suite. She certainly didn't belong here, wallowing in self-pity at Michael's expense. She went into the bathroom and filled her cupped hands with cold water which she pressed with relief against her face. Mariana stared at her own reflection. She looked tired, drained and disheveled. Before she could begin crying again, she picked up her bags and, after checking the way was clear, made her way back to the hotel lobby and out into the chilly night air.
Mariana didn't have a clue where to go so, rather than looking lost in an unfamiliar part of town, she began walking purposefully. She would find a diner or cafe that was still open and think about her options. She found a deli that, miraculously, was still open and serving coffee and food. She ordered a ham and brie baguette which came stuffed to the gunnels with an assortment of other goodies. She was suddenly ravenous. Mariana put her small travel bag under the table and then retrieved her phone from her handbag and placed it on the table before her. A waitress brought her order to the table and smiled at Mariana. "You look tired, my dear. Enjoy!"
Mariana took a huge bite of the baguette and savoured the taste of the salty ham and the creamy brie. The smell of her coffee alone was enough to revive her senses and she suddenly knew what she wanted to do. Call Michael. It suddenly seemed the most obvious thing in the world. His was the only voice she desperately wanted to hear. He'd know what to do. She already felt like a fool for leaving the safety of the hotel and he'd most likely tell her to go back there. Still, she wanted to hear him speak to her. She felt warm just thinking about it. She was thinking logically again, thanks to the food in her stomach.
She worked hard to contain herself as she listened for his phone to ring and was so disappointed when she was redirected to his voicemail. She left a short message saying she was okay and that she looked forward to talking soon. Almost as soon as she had placed the phone back on the table she jumped as it started ringing and bouncing around on the glass top table.
"Hello?" she gushed still fumbling with the phone in her hand.
"Maria? It's me!" Michael's familiar voice was like medicine. Mariana closed her eyes with relief.
"Hey stranger!" She smiled as he chuckled at her words.
"Maria. You sound sad. Are you sad?" Michael asked sensing the reason behind Mariana's call.
"Michael, I'm devastated!" Mariana bit her lip as she waited for his reply.
"Please don't be sad. This is just to be expected. It comes with the territory as they say." Mariana smiled at Michael's kind words. "I was too relaxed about everything. I let them get to us and I feel terrible. I just want to be with you right now," he continued.
Mariana forgot to speak, she was listening to his voice, it soothed and calmed and reminded her of the first time they had spoken on the phone.
"Hey girl! Are you still there?"
Mariana giggled. "Of course I am!" She replied.
"Just remember," Michael continued and then he started singing, "All I wanna say is that they don't really care about us..."
"Where are you?" He stopped abruptly. He could hear a coffee machine and voices in the background.
"I'm in a deli. Just down the road from the hotel you arranged for me."
"Are you with someone?"
No. I'm on my own. Why?"
"Mariana!" Michael sounded cross. "What do you think you are doing? Please go back to the hotel. I need to know you are safe. Okay?"
"I will!" Mariana promised. "I just need to clear my head. And eat. And hear your voice..." Mariana's voice trailed off. "Michael?"
"Yes, my darling." His voice was so gentle and full of love it took Mariana's breath away and she almost forgot what she was going to say.
"Somebody broke into my apartment."
"I know, I know." Michael soothed, "I've already got my people talking to the police. "We will find out if it's connected to us. Hopefully it isn't. But I want you to go back to the hotel now. I'll talk to you there."
"Okay. Michael?" Mariana felt a surge of relief flood through every vessel in her body.
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mariana breathed a sigh of relief. Michael had soothed away her fears and anxiety as soon as she heard his voice. She wrapped up her baguette which was too delicious to leave behind and gulped down her coffee. Thanking the waitress as she left, she headed back to the hotel a much happier person than when she had left.
"Hello Mariana!"
Mariana stopped dead in her tracks. Richard!? Oh God! What was he doing here? Had he followed her from her apartment? Mariana swallowed hard and turned to see his familiar outline only half lit by the street light above them. She refused to ask him anything thinking only of getting back to her room and to Michael.
"My my, Mariana. You've been a busy girl of late." His voice was laced with menace and scorn. She hated him. Hated what he had tried to do to her. She kept her eyes on him, but her body was turned away.
"In a hurry, sweetheart?" he cajoled. "Back to Michael?" His voice was steady, but the pitch left Mariana in no doubt about his intentions.
Still, Mariana said nothing.
"Do you know how long it took me to find you Mariana?" Richard continued, as if they were having an ordinary conversation. "Weeks--no, months!" He paused but knew she wasn't going to respond. "And now? Now you have created quite the little life for yourself haven't you?
"I had it all worked out Mariana. I was going to marry you, buy a nice house in the country, and have kids. But no. That wasn't enough for you. You wanted more didn't you? You wanted your idol didn't you? I wasn't good enough for you."
Mariana knew it was all rubbish. How on earth had he convinced himself that this was their future together? He had never acknowledged the fact that he attacked her and his smooth reaction immediately after it had happened convinced Mariana that nobody would ever believe her. Even her parents were won over by the local golden boy and the fact he was interested in their daughter. They had treated her like a complete oddity when she began ignoring his calls. He'd been so hostile and physically aggressive towards her, the truth was she was frightened of him, but what made matters worse was how kind and wonderful everyone else thought he was. She had had no choice. She had to leave. And now here he was again ready to destroy any happiness she had finally found in her life.
"And now it's all gone Mariana. I'm flat broke." Mariana shivered as she felt his hand grab hold of her sleeve and his eyes seemed to bore through her skin. "It's all gone, Mariana. The market's dried up and so have I." His steady voice had broken and there was rage in his eyes. "But look who's come into a bit of good fortune!" His hand tightly squeezed her upper arm and Mariana knew she had to respond carefully. He'd been drinking, heavily, and he was on the edge. There was no telling what he would do. He was shaking and volatile she thought. Suddenly she felt another hand on her shoulder and she turned, relieved to see a friendly face.
"Miss? Is everything okay?" It was the head of the security team who had brought her to the hotel. Mariana hesitated. He then extended his hand to Richard, "Hello, I'm Max a friend of Mariana's."
Richard who had released her arm, ignored this gesture and had already turned to leave. He looked over his shoulder at her and smirked. "Go back to your ivory tower, Mariana!" he snarled before he sauntered off into the darkness. But she had an uneasy feeling that this wouldn't be the last she would see of him.
"Are you okay, Miss?" Max noticed Mariana was shivering so he wasted no time getting her back inside the hotel.
"I'm okay, just a little shook up! Thank you, Max. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been there."
Max was still worried. He had already decided to call the police who were investigating the break in at Mariana's apartment. This latest situation which occurred just outside the hotel Mariana was staying at was a major concern, and he immediately decided to call Michael's people in Europe.
When Michael found out about the incident he was distraught. It was his responsibility to ensure Mariana was safe and with her name and image splashed all over the media he knew she was highly vulnerable, especially to any ex-boyfriends with a chip on their shoulder. He knew from personal experience that all kinds of people had it in them to crawl out of the woodwork and create stories for cash, but even more disturbing was the fact that this same person was harassing her. Frank had relayed Max's description of the man. He was unshaven, unkempt and had clearly been drinking, heavily.
Michael took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Would this taste of being associated with him be too much for her to bear? They had hardly got off the ground. He was angry with himself for having been so public with his affections towards her. What had he been thinking? The truth was he hadn't been thinking. She had sent his mind into a spin to the point where he had almost forgotten who he was. With her there was no past, no future to worry about, just the bliss of loving and living in the moment. What a fool he'd been. Now he had to think. How would he protect her? He wanted to wrap her up in cotton wool until he could be with her again. Then everything would be okay. He would have her in his arms once again and everything else would be forgotten. He still had over three weeks of the European leg to perform, before he could fly home and be with her.
Then it struck him. His condominium in New York. Of course. She could go there! She'd be safe. Various members of his family were always borrowing it, but he would ensure no one would be there whilst she was using it. Just three more weeks and he would join her. Then they would talk about their future - together. All of their troubles would just disappear when he was by her side again. He would make sure of that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Hello Mariana!"
Mariana stopped dead in her tracks. Richard!? Oh God! What was he doing here? Had he followed her from her apartment? Mariana swallowed hard and turned to see his familiar outline only half lit by the street light above them. She refused to ask him anything thinking only of getting back to her room and to Michael.
"My my, Mariana. You've been a busy girl of late." His voice was laced with menace and scorn. She hated him. Hated what he had tried to do to her. She kept her eyes on him, but her body was turned away.
"In a hurry, sweetheart?" he cajoled. "Back to Michael?" His voice was steady, but the pitch left Mariana in no doubt about his intentions.
Still, Mariana said nothing.
"Do you know how long it took me to find you Mariana?" Richard continued, as if they were having an ordinary conversation. "Weeks--no, months!" He paused but knew she wasn't going to respond. "And now? Now you have created quite the little life for yourself haven't you?
"I had it all worked out Mariana. I was going to marry you, buy a nice house in the country, and have kids. But no. That wasn't enough for you. You wanted more didn't you? You wanted your idol didn't you? I wasn't good enough for you."
Mariana knew it was all rubbish. How on earth had he convinced himself that this was their future together? He had never acknowledged the fact that he attacked her and his smooth reaction immediately after it had happened convinced Mariana that nobody would ever believe her. Even her parents were won over by the local golden boy and the fact he was interested in their daughter. They had treated her like a complete oddity when she began ignoring his calls. He'd been so hostile and physically aggressive towards her, the truth was she was frightened of him, but what made matters worse was how kind and wonderful everyone else thought he was. She had had no choice. She had to leave. And now here he was again ready to destroy any happiness she had finally found in her life.
"And now it's all gone Mariana. I'm flat broke." Mariana shivered as she felt his hand grab hold of her sleeve and his eyes seemed to bore through her skin. "It's all gone, Mariana. The market's dried up and so have I." His steady voice had broken and there was rage in his eyes. "But look who's come into a bit of good fortune!" His hand tightly squeezed her upper arm and Mariana knew she had to respond carefully. He'd been drinking, heavily, and he was on the edge. There was no telling what he would do. He was shaking and volatile she thought. Suddenly she felt another hand on her shoulder and she turned, relieved to see a friendly face.
"Miss? Is everything okay?" It was the head of the security team who had brought her to the hotel. Mariana hesitated. He then extended his hand to Richard, "Hello, I'm Max a friend of Mariana's."
Richard who had released her arm, ignored this gesture and had already turned to leave. He looked over his shoulder at her and smirked. "Go back to your ivory tower, Mariana!" he snarled before he sauntered off into the darkness. But she had an uneasy feeling that this wouldn't be the last she would see of him.
"Are you okay, Miss?" Max noticed Mariana was shivering so he wasted no time getting her back inside the hotel.
"I'm okay, just a little shook up! Thank you, Max. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been there."
Max was still worried. He had already decided to call the police who were investigating the break in at Mariana's apartment. This latest situation which occurred just outside the hotel Mariana was staying at was a major concern, and he immediately decided to call Michael's people in Europe.
When Michael found out about the incident he was distraught. It was his responsibility to ensure Mariana was safe and with her name and image splashed all over the media he knew she was highly vulnerable, especially to any ex-boyfriends with a chip on their shoulder. He knew from personal experience that all kinds of people had it in them to crawl out of the woodwork and create stories for cash, but even more disturbing was the fact that this same person was harassing her. Frank had relayed Max's description of the man. He was unshaven, unkempt and had clearly been drinking, heavily.
Michael took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Would this taste of being associated with him be too much for her to bear? They had hardly got off the ground. He was angry with himself for having been so public with his affections towards her. What had he been thinking? The truth was he hadn't been thinking. She had sent his mind into a spin to the point where he had almost forgotten who he was. With her there was no past, no future to worry about, just the bliss of loving and living in the moment. What a fool he'd been. Now he had to think. How would he protect her? He wanted to wrap her up in cotton wool until he could be with her again. Then everything would be okay. He would have her in his arms once again and everything else would be forgotten. He still had over three weeks of the European leg to perform, before he could fly home and be with her.
Then it struck him. His condominium in New York. Of course. She could go there! She'd be safe. Various members of his family were always borrowing it, but he would ensure no one would be there whilst she was using it. Just three more weeks and he would join her. Then they would talk about their future - together. All of their troubles would just disappear when he was by her side again. He would make sure of that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Michael and Mariana talked for several hours. For some reason they didn't talk about the incident or the media. They didn't talk about the past and they didn't talk about the future other than when Michael explained that he wanted her to stay in his apartment. Mariana protested at first: she felt helpless and unable to defend herself and falling back on Michael's charity just seemed plain wrong and slightly pathetic.
"Mariana. Listen to me. Please, I want you to do this for us." Michael implored. "I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you. What happened to you this evening scared me. Besides it's just for a little while, until I get back to you."
Mariana finally agreed; her heart was filled with warmth from his sincerity and concern for her. Nobody, other than her own parents, whom she loved dearly, had ever looked after her like this. She felt herself well up with tears again.
"I miss you so much, Michael."
She sounded so lost and sad, Michael couldn't help feel sorry for her. "Hey now, don't cry, Maria!" His voice was soft and quiet. Even the silences were filled with longing and desire.
They talked about nothing in particular after that, the sound of each other’s voice was all they needed to hear. Michael sang and whispered silly things to her that made her giggle and long for him even more. He told her about things that had gone wrong on stage and the discovery that his zipper was undone whilst he was dancing full pelt made her shriek with laughter. He told her he was glad to have the children near him again but that he wished they could have got to know her better, and then he told her that he missed her, desperately. She sighed and didn't speak for a long time. Michael swallowed hard and wondered if he should tell her that he loved her, but he didn't. It was too much and he wanted to tell her face to face. He couldn't bear the thought of making her feel awkward or shy, so he kept that thought to himself--for a little while longer at least.
They were interrupted by a knock at the door. It was Max. He asked Mariana if she was ready to leave and thought that it would be best to go before it got light again. Not many people knew Michael had living accommodations in New York, and the fewer people who saw her associated with the place the better. She explained to Michael that she was going to his apartment now and he promised to call her back as soon as she arrived.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Mariana. Listen to me. Please, I want you to do this for us." Michael implored. "I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you. What happened to you this evening scared me. Besides it's just for a little while, until I get back to you."
Mariana finally agreed; her heart was filled with warmth from his sincerity and concern for her. Nobody, other than her own parents, whom she loved dearly, had ever looked after her like this. She felt herself well up with tears again.
"I miss you so much, Michael."
She sounded so lost and sad, Michael couldn't help feel sorry for her. "Hey now, don't cry, Maria!" His voice was soft and quiet. Even the silences were filled with longing and desire.
They talked about nothing in particular after that, the sound of each other’s voice was all they needed to hear. Michael sang and whispered silly things to her that made her giggle and long for him even more. He told her about things that had gone wrong on stage and the discovery that his zipper was undone whilst he was dancing full pelt made her shriek with laughter. He told her he was glad to have the children near him again but that he wished they could have got to know her better, and then he told her that he missed her, desperately. She sighed and didn't speak for a long time. Michael swallowed hard and wondered if he should tell her that he loved her, but he didn't. It was too much and he wanted to tell her face to face. He couldn't bear the thought of making her feel awkward or shy, so he kept that thought to himself--for a little while longer at least.
They were interrupted by a knock at the door. It was Max. He asked Mariana if she was ready to leave and thought that it would be best to go before it got light again. Not many people knew Michael had living accommodations in New York, and the fewer people who saw her associated with the place the better. She explained to Michael that she was going to his apartment now and he promised to call her back as soon as she arrived.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was strange being back at work. She'd only been on holiday a week, but it felt like a lifetime. Being back in such a familiar environment was strange after the time she'd spent with Michael in Europe. All of that now felt quite surreal. Even the events that followed with Richard and the burglary at her apartment felt like a dim and distant nightmare. The police were still investigating, but they had let Mariana know she was now able to get back into her apartment, as they had taken all the evidence they needed. Staying in Michael's apartment was surreal, beautiful but surreal. Everything about it screamed Michael from the lavish and regal furniture to the gallery of portraits and pictures that filled almost every inch of available wall space.
Mariana felt like an intruder and it wasn't until Michael called her and told her to make herself at home that she had actually been able to relax. Well, relax is something of an understatement. By the time the call was over it was almost time to get up and get ready for a work. No wonder Mariana was indifferent to the looks and rumours flying around the office. She could barely stifle her yawns.
Michael had called about ten minutes after she arrived in his apartment. "Where are you?" he asked softly.
"I'm still in the entrance hall, looking at all your things. Michael it's so big!" She was in awe and rooted to the spot, mesmerized by the museum-like beauty of the place. The most ornate table she had ever seen bore the weight of beautiful white Greek sculptures whilst the towering walls were covered in the most beautiful Impressionist watercolours. She felt like she had just walked into a cathedral. The eye was drawn upwards beyond the grand staircase to a glass dome at the very top of the building. It had been lit from the interior to show off all the beautiful colours of the stain glass windows.
Michael laughed at her voice so full of wonder and awe. "Mariana, relax! You have had a long day, and you need to make yourself at home! Listen when I'm back I will show you everything - I love that place, but for now I want you to go to bed."
"Okay, but where do I go?" Max hadn't come in knowing Michael would call and tell her everything she needed to know, but the place had already been lit up and was warm.
Michael laughed at her voice so full of wonder and awe. "Mariana, relax! You have had a long day, and you need to make yourself at home! Listen when I'm back I will show you everything - I love that place, but for now I want you to go to bed."
"Okay, but where do I go?" Max hadn't come in knowing Michael would call and tell her everything she needed to know, but the place had already been lit up and was warm.
"Right! Are you facing the staircase?"
"Yes - it's awesome!"
"Okay! Go up the left side of the staircase and into the one.. two... take the third door on your left."
Mariana picked up her small travel case and headed upstairs, still looking up at the dizzy .heights of the dome above her head!
"Got it! Do I go in here?"
"Yes! It should be all ready for you."
Mariana opened the door and nearly dropped the phone. "Oh Michael! It's beautiful!" She kicked her shoes off by the door and put down her things and walked around the bedroom suite in admiration of everything she saw. She quite forgot about feeling exhausted and all the drama of the evening seemed to melt away.
"Mariana? Are you there? Listen to me." Michael smiled imagining the look of wonderment on Mariana's face.
"Yes, I'm still here, but I feel like I'm dreaming, Michael."
How he wished he were there with her. He'd take her by the hand and show her everything. "Mariana?"
"Yes, Michael?"
"Are you tired?"
"Not anymore!"
"You have to sleep, girl."
"I won't be able to sleep - not now! This is too much!"
"Mariana," Michael was whispering. He wanted his girl to feel comfortable and he didn't want her lying awake the whole night thinking about all the things that had happened to her. "I want you to get into bed, okay? Get ready for bed and keep talking to me"
Mariana and Michael kept the phone locked to their ears as she got ready for bed. She felt excited beyond words and was relieved Michael was with her--if only on the end of the phone.
"Are you in bed yet, lovely one?"
Mariana climbed into the huge bed and pulled back the heavy sheets. The pillows were so soft and plump she immediately felt warm and safe. "I am now - I'm very comfortable. Where are you, Michael?" she whispered back.
"I'm in my hotel suite. I wish I were with you!" he sighed. Michael imagined her in his bed and felt all the longing and desire for her return. How he longed to touch her again. To kiss her and make her forget all the stress and strain she had had to endure. All he could now was just talk to her and make her feel safe and happy. He wanted to arouse her and remind her of him. He wanted to put her into a deep sleep and only wished she was in his arms once again. "I want to touch you, Mariana."
"I wish you were here with me. I want to feel your soft lips against mine. I can't stop thinking about you, Michael."
"Close your eyes, Mariana. Pretend I am next you. My hands are caressing you, lulling you to sleep."
Mariana swallowed hard. That thought alone was almost too much to bear. "I can feel you, Michael."
"Can you feel me breathing on your neck. I want to kiss it. Softly. Butterfly kisses up and down your soft skin. Can you feel them?
"Yyyyyeessss." Mariana gasped and touched her neck with her fingers. She sighed with contentment. Michael realised she was aroused too so he moved towards his own bed in order to continue the conversation. He knew he was turning her on and felt himself stiffen with excitement as he imagined her lying there in his bed.
"Now I'm kissing your mouth, but my hands are slowly running up and down your side, feeling the outline of your hips... Your breasts..." Even as he said it, Michael bit his lip as he imagined her nipples harden at his word. He imagined opening her night-shirt and gazing at her breasts before continuing his exploration of her soft skin with his tongue.
Mariana was imagining exactly the same thing. It was pitch black in the room and she had no trouble visualising Michael lying right there next to her. She knew his face so well and could see every little change in his expression, from the creases of his smiling doe-like eyes and his thick lashes as they grazed her skin, to the curl of his lips as he smiled at her reaction and then softly pressed against her most sensitive places. She moaned audibly as Michael's voice continued to whisper in her ear.
Michael hardly dared to breathe as he listened to her soft sighs and moans. "Take your clothes off, Mariana."
"'Okay." Mariana murmured sleepily. She felt so turned on, as if she were floating between sleep and reality. She could actually feel Michael's warm breath on her skin as she responded to his sweet talk.
"Ooooh, Girrrrl! I can see and feel your sweet, sweet body. It's so soft and...you look beautiful tonight. I just wanna look at you for a while, okay?" Michael closed his own eyes and sighed with contentment as he heard her remove her clothes. He could hear the sheets rustle as she moved her body on his bed. He was now touching himself and wishing he could be with her right now. He imagined staring into her eyes as his lips and tongue navigated her soft, nude body and his hands began caressing her thighs.
Mariana was imagining exactly the same thing. It was pitch black in the room and she had no trouble visualising Michael lying right there next to her. She knew his face so well and could see every little change in his expression, from the creases of his smiling doe-like eyes and his thick lashes as they grazed her skin, to the curl of his lips as he smiled at her reaction and then softly pressed against her most sensitive places. She moaned audibly as Michael's voice continued to whisper in her ear.
Michael hardly dared to breathe as he listened to her soft sighs and moans. "Take your clothes off, Mariana."
"'Okay." Mariana murmured sleepily. She felt so turned on, as if she were floating between sleep and reality. She could actually feel Michael's warm breath on her skin as she responded to his sweet talk.
"Ooooh, Girrrrl! I can see and feel your sweet, sweet body. It's so soft and...you look beautiful tonight. I just wanna look at you for a while, okay?" Michael closed his own eyes and sighed with contentment as he heard her remove her clothes. He could hear the sheets rustle as she moved her body on his bed. He was now touching himself and wishing he could be with her right now. He imagined staring into her eyes as his lips and tongue navigated her soft, nude body and his hands began caressing her thighs.
"Open your legs for me, Maria." he whispered.
Mariana could hardly speak, "Mmmm!" she managed to respond as her own hands imagined Michael gently stroking and teasing her.
"Your skin is so soft. Don't touch yourself yet, okay?" he warned as he imagined how he would tease and turn her own.
"Oh, Michael! I can't..." Mariana was struggling to obey his word as her fingertips came dangerously close to the place she most wanted to feel his touch.
"Oh, Girl! You are sooooo bad! If I were there right now, you know what I would be doing to you, don't you?" Michael was slowly relieving himself as he lay back on his own bed the phone pressed between his shoulder and ear.
Mariana's fingers were wandering now and she knew Michael was as turned on as she was.
"Girl, I bet you are soo wet, right now!"
"Yyyyyeeees! I am. Michael, oh!" Mariana's fingers gently circled the soft, intimate flesh above her opening. "Oh God! Michael, I want you rrrright nnooooowww. Ooooohh!" She imagined all his weight pressing down upon her, and his body moving inside of hers. "I neeed you. I want you inside of me. Ooooh! Michael! Please. I can't wait!"
Michael swiftly brought himself to completion as he realised she had reached the point of no return. "Uh! G.... g... gggirrl. Uh... uh... ahhhhhh!" was all the sound he could make to let her know he was with her all the way. In that single moment they both felt each others ecstasy as if they really were lying in each others arms. She and Michael laughed with joy and contentment as they listened to each others breathing become ragged and disjointed and then slowed down. Their breaths were laboured as they came slowly back to the realisation that they were still miles apart.
"Oh My God!" Mariana whispered, barely audible.
"No! It's just Michael!" he replied.
Neither could stop giggling after that.
"Oh My God!" Mariana whispered, barely audible.
"No! It's just Michael!" he replied.
Neither could stop giggling after that.
The Girl is Mine
Every Night She Walks Right In My Dreams
Since I Met Her From The Start
I'm So Proud I Am The Only One
Who Is Special In Her Heart
Three weeks apart! Michael groaned and pressed his hands against his face. Just one day in show business could feel like a year: interviews, rehearsals, meetings with producers, and reading reviews of concerts. It was hard seeing your life scrutinized under the perpetual spotlight of the media. It wasn't going to be easy for either of them. Michael knew Mariana wanted to try and get back to normal as soon as possible, but she had already discovered that wasn't going to be easy; Michael desperately wanted to be there for her every step of the way--especially in these early days. Nobody knew how hard it was like he did. Maybe twenty or thirty years ago, things would have been different. The media seemed to have gone into overdrive and was destroying the lives of anyone in the public eye at an alarming rate.
For somebody in his position to try and embark upon a serious relationship with someone who wasn't associated in any way with the industry seemed almost laughable. He knew his entourage would support him--for now--but what happened when the tour was over? Who could he turn to then? His family? Perhaps, but Michael knew that even they were sometimes more interested in their own standing than his happiness, and what they said to him and what they said to each other and sometimes even the media were two different entities. Sometimes he didn't know whom to trust.
He felt all the old feelings of doubt and insecurity return. "No!" he said aloud. He wouldn't let that happen. He was in a good place right now. And he wouldn't let all those old fears for the future, all that apprehension well up inside him again. He was too old for all that now. This was going to work. He was going to make this work. He would fight for it if he had to. For himself, for Mariana and for his children. Work would go on the back-burner after this tour and he would put his family first. And that included Mariana. The doggone girl was his, after all.
The tour had been an unprecedented success. Ticket sales had even exceeded the Bad Tour and he had already turned what was to be a series of dates in London into a world-wide tour following demand from his fans around the globe. There was even talk about a film documenting the tour. This Is It really was to be IT as far as Michael was concerned. His touring days were well and truly coming to an end, and the thought filled him with an certain amount of trepidation. Even though he hadn't toured for ten years, his whole life seemed to have been spent on the road.
And now, at last, his children had seen it--from the creation of a song penned casually at home to the production of a multi-platinum award-winning album and the electrifying stage performances. They had finally seem him do what Michael had spent his whole life trying to perfect, and boy were they proud. Well, proud was an understatement really: overwhelmed, speechless and dizzy with delight went someway to describing their excitement at seeing Daddy on the stage. Prince and Paris couldn't help but see their daddy in a new and extraordinarily dazzling light. When Blanket saw his daddy appear on stage that first time he stood still, rooted to the spot, eyes wide open in wonderment. Blanket was always dancing and fidgeting, like his daddy, but not at THAT moment. Was that man, dancing and singing and making all these people happy really HIS daddy? He couldn't quite believe his eyes. Of course they'd seen all the videos and concert footage from bygone years. Everyone and, of course, daddy himself had told them many things about what it was he did, but THIS? Goodness!!! THIS was truly something else - nothing could have prepared them for this!!! ALL the words in the world couldn't even begin to describe what they had actually seen with their eyes.
And Michael saw it. All the pain he had endured. All the hard work through all the years. All the tears and struggles he had tried, and often failed, to hide just evaporated and disappeared. When he looked into his children's eyes and saw their wonderment, his heart felt fit to burst with pride and love.
Your love is magical, that's how I feel
But I have not the words here to explain
Gone is the grace for expressions of passion
But there are worlds and worlds of ways to explain
To tell you how I feel
But I am speechless, speechless
That's how you make me feel
Mariana's head was still spinning days after she had returned home. Thankfully she could lose herself in her work, and for once she found herself grateful for the familiar, if rather grumpy, face of her boss. He was the only one who seemed to be completely oblivious to her relationship with Michael Jackson. The rest of the office however, were most definitely not oblivious. They were, quite frankly, spellbound. It wasn't everyday you came into close contact with the girlfriend of a superstar and it was something the whole department, indeed the whole building as news soon spread that the girl pictured in the tabloids was indeed the girl who worked in accounts, had become completely engrossed in every salacious little detail printed in whatever rag they could lay their hands on.
Mariana had always been something of a dark horse at work. Her experiences with Richard had left her cold and disappointed and moving to the city was something of an escape. She had fled the past and any questions her parents or friends might have had about the relationship. She just didn't want to talk about it. To grow up in such a small town where everybody knew everybody's business had become unbearable. She couldn't face the rumors that had begun to spread, no doubt perpetuated by Richard and his friends. Even her parents thought she had grown cold because she was simply dissatisfied with her life, family and friends.
The two people she had told, her two closest friends, Lizzy and Stella, had dismissed her claims telling her that even if he had 'come on strong' as they put it, she should simply ignore it. "You were going to be engaged to him after all," Lizzy had said, without any qualms whatsoever. Mariana could not believe her ears. Here were two grown women, living in the Twenty First century, and they were telling her to "put up" with an assault, like it didn't matter. An assault made by a man who was about to propose to her. Getting married and "fitting in" were deemed more important than trivial matters like assault. Mariana suspected her own parents would not have been that much more supportive, so telling them about the incident, which after all had been interrupted, seemed pointless - pathetic, even. After Richard, life was inevitably awkward and her relationships with everyone had clearly deteriorated. How could she be herself in a town which deemed her aloof and distant?
It was next to impossible to concentrate because he was everywhere. Trying to keep Michael out of her head was like trying to separate crude oil and water. Always at the surface, every thought was coated in his presence. At her desk she would hear his voice as clear as a bell, ‘Mariana! Come see this. Oh it's so beautiful!’ She felt his fingers slide down her back and she had to take great care she responded appropriately to those around her. Every word, every utterance was an effort to hide her true thoughts and feelings. Michael, Michael, Michael! "Michael Jackson?" Mariana had just typed his name instead of her own in an email she was about the send. She groaned and leaned back in her chair, her hands covering her face.
"Everything okay?" It was Nicola.
Mariana looked up at her and shrugged, "Yeah! Thanks. I guess!"
"It can't be easy!" Nicola continued, putting down everything she'd been carrying and pulling up a chair close to Mariana.
"No!" Mariana feigned a smile and looked sideways at her colleague. She wanted to talk to someone, she was desperate to talk. So many thoughts were just bottled up inside of her and so many people seemed to be whispering behind her back, even if she was just imagining it, she was grateful Nicola had acknowledged her dilemma.
"Listen, you know if you ever want to talk - just to get things off your chest, I'm here, okay?" Nicola smiled and added, "I know we're not close and this isn't exactly the friendliest environment or anything, but you look sad Mariana. I know things must be hard for you right now."
Mariana was close to tears and she felt so stupid but this was the first time someone at work had reached out to her and said something kind. She swallowed hard, "Thanks. I'd like that." "Well, we'll arrange something, okay?" "Sure!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
...why did you only reach me so late?
What happened to my life before?
I'd hunted for love, but found only mirages... (Voltaire)
Michael removed his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes. He was exhausted and his eyes were sore and tired, but the words were etched on his mind. He said them aloud over and over again. He'd forgotten which city he was in - he didn't care anymore - he just felt sad that she was so far away. He simply wanted to put his arms around her and whisper in her ear, "You're mine... you're mine... you're mine. I love you!" He would read to her and talk about the future and his love of art and history and she would encourage him to follow his heart...He needed to feel settled again. Touring had been wonderful and at last his children had seen him perform, which is what he'd dreamed about, but now... Well, now, he just wanted to go home and be with her again. He felt energized around her and young again. She'd given him the love he had craved for so many years. But would she eventually tire of him? Would she feel drained by him?
Lisa's damning words resounded in his head. ‘You don't know how to love...He loved me about as much as he was capable of loving anybody...’
Was that true? Was he incapable of loving a woman? Of making her feel whole and complete? Would he drain Mariana...suffocate her? She was a young woman embarking upon the prime of her life. Michael had the feeling that she hadn't yet discovered everyt hing about herself, so how could she know her destiny? Did she feel it was with him? Could they embark upon this journey together?
He closed his eyes again and thought about the words on the page.
I'd hunted for love... I'd hunted for love... I'd hunted for love
He wondered whether to call Mariana again, but he'd already woke her that evening and lulled her back to sleep. She'd even cried on the phone saying that she missed him and was not happy at all on her own again. Michael felt sad thinking about it and wanted more than anything to go to her, but it was impossible. Instead, he did as he always did: he put pen to paper.
She's crying
Can you hear her call?
There's no one near to dry her tears
To break her fall...
Please somebody hold her
Tell her it'll be alright
Tell her that I love her
That she's not alone tonight
And though I can't be there
Please tell her that I care
I may be gone, but I belong with her...
Michael began to hum a melody that came into his head as he wrote the words and then, somehow, his mouth, lips, tongue and voice-box broke into a simultaneous percussion and the whole song suddenly erupted into being. He spent the whole night working on it and didn't climb into bed until the light of dawn began to creep under the curtains.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
But I have not the words here to explain
Gone is the grace for expressions of passion
But there are worlds and worlds of ways to explain
To tell you how I feel
But I am speechless, speechless
That's how you make me feel
Mariana's head was still spinning days after she had returned home. Thankfully she could lose herself in her work, and for once she found herself grateful for the familiar, if rather grumpy, face of her boss. He was the only one who seemed to be completely oblivious to her relationship with Michael Jackson. The rest of the office however, were most definitely not oblivious. They were, quite frankly, spellbound. It wasn't everyday you came into close contact with the girlfriend of a superstar and it was something the whole department, indeed the whole building as news soon spread that the girl pictured in the tabloids was indeed the girl who worked in accounts, had become completely engrossed in every salacious little detail printed in whatever rag they could lay their hands on.
Mariana had always been something of a dark horse at work. Her experiences with Richard had left her cold and disappointed and moving to the city was something of an escape. She had fled the past and any questions her parents or friends might have had about the relationship. She just didn't want to talk about it. To grow up in such a small town where everybody knew everybody's business had become unbearable. She couldn't face the rumors that had begun to spread, no doubt perpetuated by Richard and his friends. Even her parents thought she had grown cold because she was simply dissatisfied with her life, family and friends.
The two people she had told, her two closest friends, Lizzy and Stella, had dismissed her claims telling her that even if he had 'come on strong' as they put it, she should simply ignore it. "You were going to be engaged to him after all," Lizzy had said, without any qualms whatsoever. Mariana could not believe her ears. Here were two grown women, living in the Twenty First century, and they were telling her to "put up" with an assault, like it didn't matter. An assault made by a man who was about to propose to her. Getting married and "fitting in" were deemed more important than trivial matters like assault. Mariana suspected her own parents would not have been that much more supportive, so telling them about the incident, which after all had been interrupted, seemed pointless - pathetic, even. After Richard, life was inevitably awkward and her relationships with everyone had clearly deteriorated. How could she be herself in a town which deemed her aloof and distant?
It was next to impossible to concentrate because he was everywhere. Trying to keep Michael out of her head was like trying to separate crude oil and water. Always at the surface, every thought was coated in his presence. At her desk she would hear his voice as clear as a bell, ‘Mariana! Come see this. Oh it's so beautiful!’ She felt his fingers slide down her back and she had to take great care she responded appropriately to those around her. Every word, every utterance was an effort to hide her true thoughts and feelings. Michael, Michael, Michael! "Michael Jackson?" Mariana had just typed his name instead of her own in an email she was about the send. She groaned and leaned back in her chair, her hands covering her face.
"Everything okay?" It was Nicola.
Mariana looked up at her and shrugged, "Yeah! Thanks. I guess!"
"It can't be easy!" Nicola continued, putting down everything she'd been carrying and pulling up a chair close to Mariana.
"No!" Mariana feigned a smile and looked sideways at her colleague. She wanted to talk to someone, she was desperate to talk. So many thoughts were just bottled up inside of her and so many people seemed to be whispering behind her back, even if she was just imagining it, she was grateful Nicola had acknowledged her dilemma.
"Listen, you know if you ever want to talk - just to get things off your chest, I'm here, okay?" Nicola smiled and added, "I know we're not close and this isn't exactly the friendliest environment or anything, but you look sad Mariana. I know things must be hard for you right now."
Mariana was close to tears and she felt so stupid but this was the first time someone at work had reached out to her and said something kind. She swallowed hard, "Thanks. I'd like that." "Well, we'll arrange something, okay?" "Sure!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
...why did you only reach me so late?
What happened to my life before?
I'd hunted for love, but found only mirages... (Voltaire)
Michael removed his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes. He was exhausted and his eyes were sore and tired, but the words were etched on his mind. He said them aloud over and over again. He'd forgotten which city he was in - he didn't care anymore - he just felt sad that she was so far away. He simply wanted to put his arms around her and whisper in her ear, "You're mine... you're mine... you're mine. I love you!" He would read to her and talk about the future and his love of art and history and she would encourage him to follow his heart...He needed to feel settled again. Touring had been wonderful and at last his children had seen him perform, which is what he'd dreamed about, but now... Well, now, he just wanted to go home and be with her again. He felt energized around her and young again. She'd given him the love he had craved for so many years. But would she eventually tire of him? Would she feel drained by him?
Lisa's damning words resounded in his head. ‘You don't know how to love...He loved me about as much as he was capable of loving anybody...’
Was that true? Was he incapable of loving a woman? Of making her feel whole and complete? Would he drain Mariana...suffocate her? She was a young woman embarking upon the prime of her life. Michael had the feeling that she hadn't yet discovered everyt hing about herself, so how could she know her destiny? Did she feel it was with him? Could they embark upon this journey together?
He closed his eyes again and thought about the words on the page.
I'd hunted for love... I'd hunted for love... I'd hunted for love
He wondered whether to call Mariana again, but he'd already woke her that evening and lulled her back to sleep. She'd even cried on the phone saying that she missed him and was not happy at all on her own again. Michael felt sad thinking about it and wanted more than anything to go to her, but it was impossible. Instead, he did as he always did: he put pen to paper.
She's crying
Can you hear her call?
There's no one near to dry her tears
To break her fall...
Please somebody hold her
Tell her it'll be alright
Tell her that I love her
That she's not alone tonight
And though I can't be there
Please tell her that I care
I may be gone, but I belong with her...
Michael began to hum a melody that came into his head as he wrote the words and then, somehow, his mouth, lips, tongue and voice-box broke into a simultaneous percussion and the whole song suddenly erupted into being. He spent the whole night working on it and didn't climb into bed until the light of dawn began to creep under the curtains.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mariana was finally able to get back into her own apartment. Nicola had very kindly offered to help straighten everything up and soon it was looking like its old self again. Mariana finished cleaning the windows as Nicola returned with some things for lunch and a cardboard box which she placed carefully on the table. She pulled out the most beautiful orchid plant Mariana had ever seen. It had about eight flower heads which hung in a perfect curve, the fragile stem hovering over a base of lush shiny green leaves. "I thought you would like this," Nicola said smiling at Mariana's reaction.
"Oh Nicola, it's beautiful! I can't thank you enough and for helping me get this place back together - you have been so good to me!"
Nicola looked awkward. "Well I haven't really have I?" She looked up at Mariana trying to gauge her reaction before she continued. "I feel terrible to be honest!"
"What about?" Mariana was genuinely flummoxed.
"Well, you know, everything really," Nicola continued still unsure how to say what she wanted to say. "I haven't exactly been the warmest or most polite colleague in the world."
Mariana shrugged her shoulders. "Well, it's not the most conducive atmosphere for friendships to flourish is it!" she responded trying to laugh off Nicola's bold statement.
"I suppose I was wary of you at first," Nicola continued. "You know, it's pretty competitive and in comes this drop-dead gorgeous woman. I suppose I was jealous. The reaction of some of the men... and you didn't seem to notice them at all. I was flummoxed by you, I guess."
"Well, to be honest," Mariana interjected, "I was not the most open person. I was running away from a lousy relationship and quite enjoyed the anonymity of work. I don't think I tried very hard to fit in!"
"Well, the anonymity's gone," Nicola laughed weakly.
"Yeah! I guess." laughed Mariana throwing herself on the sofa.
"Hey! I'm famished." Nicola rummaged through the paper bag which contained the lunch things she'd picked up, "And..." she continued fishing out a newspaper, "I thought you would like to see this!"
She passed the newspaper over to Mariana. "It's a good news story!" She said smiling at Mariana's dubious expression.
On the front cover of the newspaper was a huge photograph of Michael and his three children surrounded by the jubilant faces of literally hundreds of other children--all of whom were looking at the their idol, their eyes full of joy and excitement. The headline ran:
"THIS IS IT! THIS IS WHAT IT'S ALL ABOUT!" SAYS MICHAEL JACKSON AFTER SAVING ANOTHER SCHOOL FROM CLOSURE IN FORGOTTEN"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mariana asked Michael about all the charity work he'd undertaken on tour later that night, but as ever he was so modest. "Aw I get so embarrassed talking about that stuff, but that's really why I'm doing all of this. I love performing and I love that my children get to see me this time, but oh Mariana..." Michael paused. "You shoulda seen the expression on Paris' face when we met the kids at that school!" Paris had been in awe of the whole experience. She could not believe how much these children seemed to adore her father and what a difference his presence seemed to make. Of course, financially, the school had been saved by Michael's generosity, but that was only part of it. Her father seemed so at ease with everyone around him, like she had never seem him before, he was so happy. This is what he lived for.
The children and their parents and the staff at the school buzzed around Michael and his family whilst the paparazzi were kept at arms length, but their repetitive requests for photo opportunities and soundbytes resounded all around. Of course, this had been Michael's intention all along. This was one of the poorest regions of his tour and he wanted to raise their plight and show it to the whole world. He knew everyone would want to take pictures of him and his children and now the whole world would see the poverty these children had to endure. The school had been saved from financial ruin, but these children still faced a life of squalour and neglect--not from loved ones or even those on the front line, but from successive governments and a world which had somehow learned to turn a blind eye.
The children sang and performed and laughed. Their faces spoke the truth - in a world which seems to have lost its way and adults who have become cynical and skeptical of their ability to CHANGE things--it's the children who are our SALVATION. They are still smiling and laughing in the face of their poverty. This IS it! At last Michael felt able ONCE AGAIN to put his fame and fortune to good use. And THIS time he didn't give a damn what his critics and detractors had to say. This was what mattered to him more than anything else in the world. He wanted to say all these things and more to Mariana, but he didn't need to, she heard it all in his voice and she saw it in the photograph she had beside her on the bed.
She just smiled and pressed the phone closer still, "I love you so much, Michael. You don't know!" she whispered just loud enough for Michael to hear.
"I love you MORE, Mariana. More than you will ever know, my sweetheart!"
To be continued...
Mariana asked Michael about all the charity work he'd undertaken on tour later that night, but as ever he was so modest. "Aw I get so embarrassed talking about that stuff, but that's really why I'm doing all of this. I love performing and I love that my children get to see me this time, but oh Mariana..." Michael paused. "You shoulda seen the expression on Paris' face when we met the kids at that school!" Paris had been in awe of the whole experience. She could not believe how much these children seemed to adore her father and what a difference his presence seemed to make. Of course, financially, the school had been saved by Michael's generosity, but that was only part of it. Her father seemed so at ease with everyone around him, like she had never seem him before, he was so happy. This is what he lived for.
The children and their parents and the staff at the school buzzed around Michael and his family whilst the paparazzi were kept at arms length, but their repetitive requests for photo opportunities and soundbytes resounded all around. Of course, this had been Michael's intention all along. This was one of the poorest regions of his tour and he wanted to raise their plight and show it to the whole world. He knew everyone would want to take pictures of him and his children and now the whole world would see the poverty these children had to endure. The school had been saved from financial ruin, but these children still faced a life of squalour and neglect--not from loved ones or even those on the front line, but from successive governments and a world which had somehow learned to turn a blind eye.
The children sang and performed and laughed. Their faces spoke the truth - in a world which seems to have lost its way and adults who have become cynical and skeptical of their ability to CHANGE things--it's the children who are our SALVATION. They are still smiling and laughing in the face of their poverty. This IS it! At last Michael felt able ONCE AGAIN to put his fame and fortune to good use. And THIS time he didn't give a damn what his critics and detractors had to say. This was what mattered to him more than anything else in the world. He wanted to say all these things and more to Mariana, but he didn't need to, she heard it all in his voice and she saw it in the photograph she had beside her on the bed.
She just smiled and pressed the phone closer still, "I love you so much, Michael. You don't know!" she whispered just loud enough for Michael to hear.
"I love you MORE, Mariana. More than you will ever know, my sweetheart!"
To be continued...
©2010 by Jenny Ann and PJWN, LLC. All Rights Reserved. This story is a work of fiction. Any names, places, and other identifying features are used in a fictional manner and are in no way representative of any actual events. All lyrics, song titles, photographs, song clips, and videos are copyright their creators. This work may not be reproduced, transmitted, copied, or stored without express written permission from PJWN, LLC.