Once I pulled away, he grabbed my hand and we followed Quincy and Kidada across the fields toward the main house. Nate and the others lined up the large carts to drive everyone to the lounge, where the photoshoot was to take place. We didn't want them in the main house tainting everything with their... tabloid junkie disease.
I laughed at my thoughts and squeezed his hand gently.
Another thirty minutes passed and we were in the middle of the shoot. Michael sported a cute little white hat, a yellow sweater, jeans, and white new balance sneakers. He was a bit nervous wearing something out of his ordinary, but I could tell that he was having a good time exploring the style.
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"He's like a kid in a candy store," Quincy said to one of the reporters. I'm guessing that they decided to start the interview. "Me and Kidada, we been tryin' to convince Michael that it'd be cool if he did this shoot since last year after his tour was over. He's created his own sense of style over the years, but the question that always floats in the air between us is: Have we ever seen Michael in jeans? And Kidada wanted to explore that with this shoot. I think she doin' good so far."
"And what do you think is most misunderstood about Michael?"
"Everything. While he's the most successful, the most innovative, talented, and creative entertainer in the world, he's still aware.. if that makes sense. He still has feelings, he has a brain, he knows what he's doin', and he knows what he says. We as fans, we forget that behind the voice and the sound, that he's still human. And I feel that people should start takin' that into consideration before they do shit."
I decided to chime in with a smile. "Preach the word Pastor."
Quincy laughed, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. "And another thing, what people forget about Michael, is that for the first time — in probably the history of music itself — a black artist, is embraced on a global level by everyone from eight to eighty years old" I nodded again in agreement. "People all over the world, especially young people, have a black man as an idol."
"And that definitely scares a lot of people," I said. "It's not Elvis, it's Michael Jackson, who we think about. Who we sing all the time. Who we cheer for. And I think that he deserves more respect in the business. Especially now in the times we livin' in. 'Cause when it's too late, it's too late, and people will continue living in regret thinking of all the stupid things they did or said to him," I glanced at Michael, who was sharing a laugh with Maddy. "Yeah, basically what I'm saying is: leave him alone." And I laughed to lighten the tensed air.
Quincy gently squeezed my shoulder. "That's what we're all sayin'. Right?"
The reporter nodded and tried not to show how awkward she was feeling. It made me laugh a bit harder.
"Sorry for interview-bombing" I shrugged smiling. "I'll leave you guys to it."
I started to walk away, but she called after me. "Wait, we wanted you to say something as well."
