Finding Michael (Michael Jackson Fanfic)

1 year later

1 year later

For the first time in my life I felt happy. I didn't know how to explain it.

I wasn't just going through life anymore, I was living it.

I laughed more, made new friends who lived in my building, and finally did things I only talked about in the past. It was liberating.

That week in Las Vegas and then in LA still stuck in my mind, but it served as a check point for the new life that I decided to live from that point on.

Of course it was hard sometimes, making changes, but when times like that hit I just kept telling myself "If MJ can do it, so can I." He was still my inspiration for many things. That would never change.

I had even moved up at Penguin Publishing house, making it so I didn't have to answer to my horrid boss anymore. He was out of site and out of mind as far as I was concerned, and that was all that mattered to me.

Of course the girls and I still kept in touch from all of our different spots in the U.S, and for some of us, overseas. We talked way more regularly than we did before and that ment the world to me. It was like having a piece of the past back. Even my mother was ecstatic when she found out that we were friendly again. Of course, some of us more than others... Bridgett and I were still wishy washy, calling every once in a while to see how things were going. We weren't as close as we once were but it felt like we were getting there, and I guess that's all that mattered.

***

On the twenty fifth of June I sat in my dimly lit apartment and I blew out a candle on top of a vanilla cupcake. As the smoke swirled up and disappeared I told Michael how much I missed him, and I wished Lance a Happy Birthday, wherever he was.

I never heard anything again from the man who had cornered me twice before. In one whole year I expected at the very least a mysterious letter to come sliding under my door, or a brief phone call telling me I'm still being watched, but surprisingly nothing of the sorts happened. It was as if I dreamed him up in the southwest heat.

I was grateful for the lack of communication on his end though. Maybe he finally realized no one would be opening our mouths about Michael. That it would go with us to our graves.

I stand in my kitchen whisking together batter while my home phone stays clipped between my shoulder and my ear while my Mom tells me about her woman's club.

"And then Rachel tells Susan that instead of being in everyone else's business, she should spend more time fixing her own life. Can you believe that?"

"Yeah, Mom. Mmhm, that's crazy." I automatically agree like a robot.

There's a knock at the door and I set down my bowl to go answer it.

"Yeah, Mom I can't believe she said that." I respond as she talks a mile a minute on the other end.

My friend Gina is there when I open up, and she hands me a baby pink envelope. My mail sometimes had a habit of finding its way into her mailbox down stairs.

"Thankyou!" I mouth.

"No problem." She wave her hand, smiling.

"Sure, Ma." I agree absentmindedly as I look at the delicate script on the front of the envelope.

It says Shania Beatrice Harper on the front with my address.

I flip it around and back again. There's no return address to be found.

I put my mother on speaker as she talks away, and I lean against the counter as I get a butter knife from my drawer, slicing the paper flap open.

The first thing I notice when I open the envelope is the cream and strawberry scented perfume. I pull out the fancy card and read the inscription on the front.