7 Things : A Michael Jackson Love Story

Chapter 1:

-Caitlin-

I sat there, in my chair by my bed, listening to my friend Jessica talk about her 'Future Husband', Michael Jackson. She explains to me everything about him, including his shoe size, his birth date, his hometown, the adress to his old house in Gary, Indiana, his house with his parents, and almost everything you could think of about 'Michael Jackson'. I thought the guy was cute, and his music was okay, but i wasn't intrested in him in THAT WAY at all. I just thought of him as this entertainer with an Amazing voice, that i will never compare mines to. I sing. But i don't sing alot. I have a passion for singing, and dancing, but not as much. My name is Caitlin Summers and i live in a condo in California. I work at a nearby diner to pay for my condo. But i don't just work in a diner, i also write books for a living. Yea, working in a diner does bring in a lot of money, but not enough to buy a huge 2 bedroom/3 bathroom condo in California. Writing books is just another passion of mine. I just write about my life sometimes and create a character to replace me. And i guess that's what sells these days, i dunno. Well, i'm Fully african-american, but i'm what they like to call a 'mut'. My background is mixed with so many cultures. French, Indian, Spanish, Cuban, Irish, Britsh, Caucasian and Italian. All of those cultures are from my great-great-great-great, Aunts and Uncles; Grandfathers and Grandmothers. So being mixed with all those cultures was really great for me, Because i had LONG black hair, that stopped on the middle of my back. I had a nice set of boobs and A nice butt. And a REALLY curvacious body. I had Carmel skin, and blue eyes. My eyes are naturally brown, but sometimes, they change to blue. I guess people think i'm pretty, cause back in highschool, Apparently, most of the girls would be jelous of how i looked and that all the boys would be after me. But each time a boy asked me out, i turned them down. They only wanted me for sex and i wanted much more. It is now July 8, 1987 and i am 27 years old. Ooops. Sorry, i actually forgot that i was on the phone for a second, heh. 

"Caitlin! You there!? Did you hear me!! Are you gonna go?" She said. I got confused for a second. "Pardon?" I said. "I said, i got 2 tickets to a Michael Jackson concert here in L.A! Do you wanna go?" I sighed, because i thought that she finished talking about Michael. "Come on... pleeeaaasseee Cataya?" She said, referring to the Nickname she gave me in highschool. I sighed again. "Fine. When is it?" I asked. I heard her squeal and i moved the phone from my ear for a second before she began talking. "It's July 9.Tomorrow! It's only one day away!" She screamed. "Why are you now telling me this then?" i said annoyed. "Because, i just got the tickets today, duh." She said in a 'Obviously' tone. "Ugh, okay. Well, just call me tomorrow and tell me when your here to pick me up." I said. "Okie-Dokie. Bye Cataya!" She said. "Bye Jessie." i said then hung up.

I got up out of the chair and went to go take a shower. I took a shower then brushed my teeth and climbed into bed. I feel asleep without no worries and had a nice peacful sleep.

'BEEP BEEP BEEP!!!'

I heard a beeping noise and groaned as i shut my alarm clock off. It was 11:52 in the morning and Jess said she would be here by 12:00 so we could get there at 4:00, since it would be a 4 hour long drive to the stadium. I got up and got in the shower. I took a quick shower, then brushed my teeth and my hair. I put on some eyeliner, i shadow and mascara, Then i put on some dark red lipstick, to show off my nice Plump lips. I curled my hair into big girls and let it hang over my shoulders. I then went to the closet to get a shirt and some pants. I found a black half shirt that stopped just above my belly button, to show off my belly button ring, then i got out some grey jeans and some black wedged heels. I put it all on then put on some gold earings. I heard a horn beep outside and i looked at the time. It was 12:13. I looked in the mirror before grabbing my spaghetti strapped purse and heading out the door.