Applehead Fever

34 - the brightest star

Short lived applause diminished after Billy Crystal's announcement, allowing cheers and whistles to fill the silence. At the same time, the lights dimmed, shadowing the faces of the crowd in its endless void.

Further back on the glossy stage, Michael stood still; leg stuck out and arm hanging limply at his hip. His body was stashed behind a tall rectangular screen, his dark silhouette outlined clearly with the help of a warm yellow light.

Fifty minutes after Whitney Houston took the stage and started the prestige awards show with her song, I Wanna Dance with Somebody, it was Michael's turn. Through the near hour, I spent my time straining my ears to hear the former performances. Taking turns dancing with Glammer, who had wrangled me into my costume with my spastically flying limbs in her face. Jamming out to the muffled music through the walls had served as a good chill pill. We had been held in the same room we arrived in, and it was slightly off from the main auditorium.

Though now I crouched behind the curtains, watching Michael's frozen shadow figure.

The snaps from the slowed intro to the song were suddenly audible over the cheers and Michael's silhouette jerked to life. He swung his leg up to the border of the box he stood behind, pivoting sharply and repeating the move whilst facing the other direction. The screen then gradually lifted, exposing Michael. Prerecorded lyrics flowed from the speakers to which he mouthed flawlessly, now swaggering down the few steps.

Before his feet, a colorful array of open circles fell over each other, centered in the middle of the stage, where he glided until he came to a halt. He performed a few sharp jerks and foot-induced wiggles, growing closer to the chorus of the song and my brief entrance.

For now, the music continued its slow and romantic hinted tune. I watched Michael intently, my heart in my throat. A quick glance away showed me that everyone in the crowd was awestruck by his performance, even as it had just begun. The first row of people—faintly visible through the brighter lighting—had their eyes locked on Michael, each looking thoroughly entertained and far from bored.

When I returned my gaze to him, he was rolling his hips, one hand on his right hip, the other on his crotch. Fluidly and almost seductively rolling his hips. Heat flared in my cheeks and I smiled at his actions, though it was short lived. He swept his hand out my direction in that silent cue and I slid onto the stage, adapting into my saunter with ease.

He hurried to jump behind me, controlled by the will of his character while I continued, legs only stopping to stand a few feet away from him. Here I faced the crowd, faces bathed in more yellow light. My heart thumped even harder, almost becoming painful.

I didn't have time to scrutinize the identities of the many celebrities seated before me; Michael was throwing his hat my way and I needed to catch it. My hand floated away from my hip, outstretched to clasp the material in my fingers. Just as rehearsed, I planted it on my own head. I took a parting glimpse Michael's direction and blew a chaste kiss before swiveling and skipping off.

Upon entering the backstage, I was welcomed by Sheryl and Glammer, smiling widely. Sheryl was already encumbered in her choir gown, the blue material reflecting the light from the stage as Michael continued his routine.

"How did you feel?" She asked, eyes wide as she motioned to the stage. She'd had to raise her volume over the booming of the music and occasional cheers, but I managed to hear her.

I let a smile creep onto my lips in pre-response. My hand went over my chest, finding that my heart had not ceased its elevated thudding. It felt like it was going to break through the sanctuary of my rib cage and fall onto my heels.

"I feel awesome." I breathed, looking between the pair with pupils probably the size of full moons. "I also think I'm in shock."

Sheryl and Glammer shared a laugh. "Yeah, performing will do that to you." Sheryl chuckled.