Love from Another (A Michael Jackson FanFic)

Ch. 15: I Always Feel Like Somebody's Watching Me (Michael POV)

I may be one of the more polarizing singers, one  whose massive fame completely isolates them from regular everyday activities, but please believe, that does NOT make me immune to my share of pure, unadulterated embarrassment.

I've walked on stage with my fly down many a-times. In my youth, several of the worlds biggest stars witnessed my fathers strict and unrelenting form of discipline. Being shoved around by Joseph in front of the likes of Sonny & Cher, The Temptations and Diana Ross is embarrassing enough, right?

But this?

Being caught in a sweaty make out session with Alex for my staff to see was far more embarrassing than all of those moments combined. Broomhilda was probably the only one with a huge smile on her face, Frank was so slack jawed his stubby cigar fell to the driveway extinguishing in a confetti of orange embers. I honestly think he was more impressed than shocked. And Karen...oh my God, Karen.

My mother, the absolute saint that she is, always told me: "Michael Joe, don't you ever run around breaking young girls hearts. I didn't raise you that way and I won't have you galavanting around not caring for others feelings, ya hear? Girls are something special, Michael. You should always be kind to them." Katherine Jackson was absolute perfection, I may be a little biased...but that doesn't make me wrong.

I told you guys earlier, right? Karen has always had a small crush on me, I would never act on it because I've known her forever, she's been a family friend for years, and not to mention: she's a staff member.

Wait. Shit.

Alexandria is a staff member too. I can only imagine how Karen felt watching us. It made me out to be a liar! Honestly, if it isn't the "you work for me" thing---what is it? What is it that kept me from wanting to have a relationship with Karen? All these years and I never so much as had an innocent kiss with her. Unbeknownst to Karen, she made her feelings towards me known two years ago:

Tipsy wasn't even the word for it! I didn't think it would get as crazy as it did, but boy did I have my fair share of wine! Here I was, 27 years old and partying with the best in the music biz! Studio 54 was a complete indulgence: there were go-go dancers in shiny sequined ensembles, a caged Bengal tiger on the floor level, and plenty of beautiful people. I can't believe I was here in the midst of it all--shy can't begin to describe my feeling towards night clubs and the like.

I felt a small tug at the tail of my blazer and turned around to a massive ball of curly black hair and the tightest pair of high waisted jeans I've ever seen a woman squeeze into.

"Michael, baby!" she cooed. I bit my lip and stuttered, "hello, Diana. They've got the best music here!" I half-yelled over Whitney Houston's 'I Wanna Dance With Somebody'. Diana smiled her megawatt smile and handed me my third glass of Cabernet Sauvignon. I watched as it sloshed in its glass, keeping in perfect time with her hip swaying.

"I really shouldn't, Di," I started. Her smile fell, I watched as her mouth formed into an exaggerated, almost comical pouting face. Rather than disappoint, I grabbed the glass and took a healthy swig.

A loud noise across the dance floor caught my attention as I watched a platinum blonde woman exclaim, "Michael, come dance with me!" It was Karen.

See, we were here at Studio 54 celebrating the songwriters that we brought on board for my next album 'BAD', we had a great lineup including the amazingly talented Sieddah Garrett. Karen basically had to force me to come out tonight. I said my goodbyes to Diana, as I walked across the dance floor  to an already drunk Karen.

She clumsily threw her hands atop my shoulders and began dancing in time with the music. I chuckled as I looked at her, her face was flush and her hair was growing more frenetic by the minute. She leaned in and said her usual, "I love you, man!" To which I responded with my ritual, "and I love you, wo-MAAN!" She laughed hysterically as if it was her first time hearing it.

I really did love Karen, she was so loyal and an absolute hoot to be around. I can't count how many times the National Enquirer has approached her offering her hundreds of thousands of dollars to divulge any secrets of mine. She always said no and always informed me when they propositioned her. That in and of itself was hard to find in an industry as superficial as ours; a loyal, steadfast, and true friend.

Our dancing slowed as Sting's 'Fields of Gold' boomed from the DJs booth. "Do you want to sit down?" I asked as she lolled her head from side to side in time with the guitar solo. "No!" she exclaimed hugging her arms around my neck, pulling in closer than before. Her chin rested on my shoulder as we slowly swayed around the dance floor.

"I love you, man..." she whispered. I smiled and began, "and I love you, wo-MAA--" I was interrupted as she was now nose to nose with me, her blue eyes boring into mine. "No, Michael. I love you, I really do love you. I've been in love with you for so long..."

No words. I mean, what do you say to that?! Luckily, I didn't have to respond; the Jell-O shots Karen was downing came up as she fell to her knees and vomited a confetti of green and red alcohol. Bill Bray, my bodyguard from the Jackson 5 days, swooped in, as he always does, and saved the day discreetly moving her off of the dance floor.

The next morning, Karen couldn't remember anything past dinner earlier that evening and our friendship was in the clear. Untainted by a one-sided confession of hidden feelings.

Karen's eyes opened fractionally as Alexandria sat up quickly and adjusted her dress to conceal her lacy bra. The wind blew Karen's platinum blonde hair across her face as she mustered, "the children will be here within the hour." She turned on her heeled boot and almost ran towards the front door without another word.