Applehead Fever

16 - progression

"We're rolling. Action!"

That mundane yet symphonic beat cultivated once more. Eyes around set capered between Michael and I; Michael dancing and continuously trying to win me over whilst I made fun of him with my girls behind me. They backed me up, La Toya flanking me on my right, Tori and Gabriela on my left. The four of us imitated Michael's dance moves and jeered at his wingmen, laughing authentically. Sharing words amongst ourselves.

This part of filming was so fun; the director encouraged our tomfoolery as it looked awesome on camera. I found that I didn't have to act as much. The flow of emotions I expressed was the true way I felt.

I was happier than I'd been the previous days I filmed.

My euphoria only elevated when I broke away from my girl group and neared my next mark. As planned and rehearsed earlier today, Michael crept away from his respective group. His eyes locked on me.

There was that fierceness, haughtily present. Like a whole different side of Michael Jackson came to light when acting. Maybe I could relate; it did give me a surge of tenacity. Performing rather brazen moves that would usually leave me extremely flustered came easy to me when I had a camera following me. A newfound perk of being an actress. Perhaps I would explore that career more, and sharpen my skills.

I halted in my routine, not making it far. With my hand pressed against the door of the dented Volkswagen, I eyed up my pursuer.

He rounded the back of the vehicle, his hands held up, palms flat. As though showing he meant no harm but he was going to continue to advance. I felt a simper dance upon my lips, rotating to lean against the car and face him. I dared him to draw even closer.

He took the dare and propped his leg up on the car. My hands flittered to my hips for hardly a second before I lifted them again. Seizing his shirt collar as I did during our rehearsal.

I was invoking latent feelings of dalliance to incorporate into my façade. Memories of the good times with my last lover clicking into place for the present. I knew dexterous actors and actresses filmed perfect scenes by using this technique. Applying experience with the emotion into the work for the best outcome.

It was working so well for me.

Michael leaned in voluntarily, a coquettish grin appearing. It distracted him from the lyrics he was supposed to mouth, something I picked up on immediately. Smugness expanded from this observation, somewhat triumphant in having this effect on the perfectionist. His face grew very close to mine as I reeled him in. So close, I felt an exhale from his nostrils tickle my cheeks.

Then it was over in a second, I playfully threw him off me and skedaddled around the car. My trio of girls and Michael's entourage had been watching the whole time, and continued to watch, amused smiles passed between them. I flipped my hair over my shoulder, looking one of the men from the gang up and down as I passed. We—Michael and I—met up again on the sidewalk; walking side by side for a short moment until I twirled and plopped my butt into a blue lawn-looking chair, Michael quickly joining me.

Here, the scene ended. From the corner of my eye I caught Michael's chest rising and falling. He was taking the short break to catch his breath after chasing and dancing for so long. This particular scene we didn't have to reshoot as many times; the rehearsal we went through earlier proved to be beneficial. But the exertion of putting so much passion into what he did was catching up to his body.

His ever observant buddy, Vince, came over with his water bottle. Michael took little sips while he wandered off and Sam strolled over, camera in hand.

"Pose just like that Michael—leg up. It looks great."

The photographer lifted the camera up to his eye to capture the pop star in his natural state. I'd moved out of the chair and to the side to allow him to have the entire spotlight.