𝙈.𝙅. 𝙄𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨 (EDITING!!!)

*ੈ✩ - Interview Gone Wrong

Your makeup artist came over to you and patted your face softly with a light layer of setting powder while Karen styled Michael's hair, adding more spray and teasing it slightly with her fingers. "I'm really regretting this," he whispered enough for the three of you to hear, fearing the interviewer sitting a few feet away would hear. When he got the call to be interviewed by Diane Sawyer, he was extremely skeptical at first because of all the things he had heard about her.

She was known for getting celebrities to slip up and embarrass themselves, ultimately bringing them to their temporary downfall. After someone was interviewed by her, the tabloids wasted no time adding onto the false negative narratives started by Diane herself. Michael wasn't comfortable saying 'yes' to this interview, but his manager said it would be good publicity and a proper chance to show the world who the real Michael Jackson was.

That was enough for him. He saw this as the chance to talk to his fans through the television screen and answer the questions his devoted supporters wanted to ask him. "We don't have to keep doing this. We can just go home," you told him. Never did you want Michael to feel like he was being forced to do something, and if this interview was making him feel that way, then you wanted to leave with him as soon as possible.

"I can't just up and leave. I'm not doing this for me, I'm doing this for my fans... no matter how uncomfortable it makes me."

"If you're feeling like that, then we can't stay here any longer," you said, before quickly thanking your makeup artist and gathering your things, such as your purse and the varsity jacket you borrowed—stole—from Michael. He quickly grasped onto your wrist loosely to stop you from making a scene. "Honey, stop it. Let's just get this over with. I'll be fine," he reassured you and gave you a kiss on the lips.

Diane admired the cute gesture happening in front of her and smiled, a smile that creeped Michael out more than it should have. She cleared her throat, placed her index cards on her lap, and shared a glance between Michael and you. "We're about to go live again," she tells both of you. Karen and your makeup artist wish you guys luck as they walked off set but stayed close enough to run back during the next commercial break.

"Okay, great," Michael replied, reaching for your hand for a comforting hold, his anxiety suddenly getting the best of him. Despite being a megastar since the age of nine, he was still human and at times felt nervous. Unfortunately, those times were while the cameras were on him. You kissed his hand and told him everything would be alright, wanting to calm the nerves that had snuck up on him.

Soon, the neon sign that displayed the words 'On-Air' shined brightly, and the camera crew honed in on you and your husband. Diane sat upright and smiled at the closest camera to her. "We're back from the commercial break, and as you know, we have Michael Jackson and Y/N Jackson with us here today. Thank you."

"Thanks for having us, Diane," Michael said, though it was obvious to you that he was forcing himself to be kind to her. Now you were beginning to regret this interview as well after visibly seeing how uneasy he was. Witnessing this made you want to stop the whole thing. In an attempt to calm him, your thumb caressed the top of his hand.

"There are some clips I would like to show the two of you," Diane said, then signaled to one of the staff members on the production team. On a large screen posted on a wall behind her, a compilation of fans began to play.

"We wanna know if you've done the thing."

"Michael I know this is an intimate question, but are you having sex together? With Y/N?"

"Do you guys really love each other or are you just doing this to satisfy the media?"

"Are you guys intimate?"

Michael chuckled at the questions, "Wow, I can't believe it," he scratched the back of his neck nervously while looking at you. You were just as shocked as he was; you don't remember checking off those types of questions being asked. Michael wasn't going to answer; he kept glancing at you as if he was silently asking for help.

"Of course, don't all couples? It's a normal thing to do."

"And to answer that one insanely silly question, no, this isn't some kind of sick joke. Our marriage is not to 'satisfy the media'; media is the last thing on my mind," he sternly said, putting that rumor to an immediate end. You smiled proudly at him; he was never hesitant when it came to defending you and the relationship.

"That's very sweet to hear, and they say true love is dead," Diane chuckled. "Now I want to get personal. I'm sure the viewers want to know, is Michael good in the bedroom?"

Michael practically yelped at the question; this was the one that truly caught him off guard. He hid his face in the crook of your neck, taking a few seconds to regain his composure and prepare himself for any other absurd questions Diane was going to ask.

You instantly shook your head, "Maybe we shouldn't get personal and move on to the next question?"

"Just give us a simple yes or no."

"It's none of your business, but since you're so desperate to know, he's amazing—in and out of bed."

"One more and then we can change the topic, what's your favorite position?"

"Diane... This isn't very professional, you know that right?" Michael intervened, speaking to her in a soft tone, trying his hardest not to lash out at the woman on television. You shifted in your seat, deciding whether you should slap the living hell out of her or just collect your things, including your husband, and leave.

"This isn't me asking, this is the media. For years, people have been questioning your sexuality, now's the time to set the record straight."

"I really don't want to beat this bitch up on national television," you muttered to Michael.

"Your husband is portrayed as an innocent guy who's a devoted Jehovah's Witness, so it seems odd to imagine him doing anything deemed as intimate or inappropriate."

"I'm a grown man; of course, I'm going to engage in 'mature activities.' Now change the topic like you said you were going to do." Michael was verbally and visibly becoming upset. Usually, if he was the only one getting interviewed, he would simply ignore these questions, but this time was different. You were involved now, and he didn't like people trying to pry into your personal life.

"Look Diane if our words aren't enough for you and you don't believe us, I'll fuck her right here on camera to get rid of any doubt in your mind."

"Jesus Christ..." You said under your breath. This interviewing was spiraling unbelievably quick.

"We'll uh— we'll be back after this commercial break," Diane stuttered out.

"You might be, but we won't. I'm ending the interview right here."

The 'On-Air' sign turned off, and Michael got off his seat to help you out of yours. He hurriedly gathered your belongings and escorted you from the studio, holding you close as you walked with heads slightly bowed. The world outside buzzed with activity, yet to your surprise respectfully parted for your escape through a waiting side entrance.

A bodyguard stood at the ready by an elegant town car, opening the door with a discreet nod. Michael thanked him and ensured you were settled first before slipping in beside you. As the car pulled smoothly into traffic, you allowed your head to rest wearily against his shoulder with a sigh.

No one was expecting the interview to end like it did, but they did know it would be iconic for decades to come.