Applehead Fever

37 - signing the future

Noise from every direction bombarded me, cries of surprise and approval pounding my eardrums. The outbursts quieted down a few seconds after my disappearance. Though never completely dissipated as Michael was still performing, joined in synchronized dance by his quartet of dancers.

Boy, did they enjoy that. I thought, biting down on my lip in slight smugness.

The poignant gale of intrepidity was still spurring my body. Retaining my sashay well after I left the eye-line of the audience. I felt on top of the world. Bigger than Michael as he continued his concert. And my ego was only incremented by the compliments and appraisal of the crew. Hounding me as I came within earshot.

Then, those powerful emotions subsided. Along with the crew as they quickly resumed their jobs. The mist clouding my mind and blinding me to any negative realizations lifting. Adrenaline abandoning me as it always did when I left the dazzling presence of the stage. Opening my eyes to the expedient I'd just executed.

Instantaneously, my mind relayed the spectacle. The stimulated roar of the crowd and surging of limbs. The blasting base of the music thrumming its melody into my head, controlling the click of my heels on the polished surface. Michael's round eyes as they bore into me. Falling downward. To my lips. All while I came within a hair's width of his. And that urge to do something I knew I shouldn't do.

Recalling the events that had transpired only a couple minutes ago brought a fierce blush to my cheeks. So incredibly astounded that I went through with it.

Wow, my character has a hold on me.

Lightheaded with a rampant barrage of emotions, I staggered for the dressing room, the heels on my feet rekindling the soreness of earlier. I knew I should have taken it easy out on the streets. Now I had to suffer the consequences.

As I gradually made for the hall that would lead to the dressing room among others, I noticed a figure lingering in the shadows. Short and plump with the outline of a suit piquing my interest and bringing me to a halt. Expecting a pleased Frank to step up to me and place a heavy hand on my back, per usual. Congratulating me on another job well done.

Though the person to emerge was not Frank.

Her hair was not pulled back in a slick ponytail, but rather fluffed out in jet-black waves ending at her shoulders. Deep bronze skin instead of a rough peach. Rounded and propped cheeks holding up protruding oval shaped eyes an identical swarthy color as her hair. An overall regal disposition compared to the professional and poised mien Frank maintained.

Because this definitely wasn't Frank.

It was Katherine Jackson.

I immediately fixed the hunched posture I was exhibiting, lips pulled back to smile kindly. The last time I saw Katherine was on the fourth day of filming The Way You Make Me Feel. And it was a rather brief meeting.

The same tug of nervousness in my stomach appeared as it had been that very day. I hadn't expected to run into Michael's mother backstage, despite knowing she had been at the last two concerts. I was unprepared and panicking.

Katherine's hibiscus pigmented lips curled immediately in a smile, hands clasped in front of her whilst her eyes danced across my features. Which were most likely twisted with confusion and perhaps slight worry. "Tatiana, you did so good out there!" Her motherly voice cooed, sending another jolt of confusion now accompanied with pleasant surprise through my boarded body.

"Oh, thank you so much." I returned her benign smile, fiddling with my fingers in a flustered manner. "That means a lot to me."

"Of course, sweetie." Katherine's beam expanded, her voice growing sweeter than I thought possible. Then she approached me, hands unhooking from each other and arms girding me in her warmth. The embrace was extremely comfortable; the tickling scent of perfume brought to my nose as my chin fit on her shoulder, the firm pressure of her arms squeezing my back, the feel of her fabric scratching and at the same time caressing my bare skin. Her voice breezed my ear as she spoke again, the sound soft and pleasantly identical to her son's. "Keep it up."