Dangerous Games (Michael Jackson Fan Fiction)

Chapter 9: Michael, Music and Me

"Will do," I told her as I walked out under the cool afternoon sun. I drove back home, singing the first verse of I'll Be There, over and over again, trying different styles of the melody. The singing was meant to get my mind off my thoughts on Michael, but I still can't help but wonder what he is doing right now. It's only for him to know, and for me to find out.

Later that night, I have put on my sleeping clothes and plopped my body on my soft, big bed, slowly immersing myself into a deep slumber.

***

The window made a creaking sound, being opened as slowly and quietly as possible. I ignored it as I was too tired to even check out what it is that might produce that sound.

It wasn't until I heard something trip onto my floor as it curses, "Shit!" under its breath. I pried my eyes open and sat up on my bed to come face to face to a silhouette, that's getting up from their fall. "Who the fuck are you?" I cried, panicking as the silhouette tries to shush and calm me down.

"Calm down, little girl! It's just me." the silhouette said, in a familiar voice, coming closer to me. I turned over my side and turned on the lamp to see the silhouette's face, and indeed it was Michael. Michael Jackson, in my room!

I heaved a sigh in relief the second I identified him.

"Jesus, Michael, you scared the shit out of me." I reached over my bedside table to grab my glasses and putting them on. Yes, I'm that blind.

"I know, sorry," Michael apologized and walks over to the window, looking for something outside. He was panting very quickly and looked like he was puffed out from running.

"What brings you here?" I asked, walking closer to him.

But before he could say anything, he widened his eyes in fear and said, "Shit, get down," dragging me down along with him.

"Michael, w-"

"Shh, they might hear you." Michael placed his hand over my mouth to silence me. Once I got quiet, Michael removed his hand and placed his finger on his lips to keep quiet, and I did.

Voices can be heard from outside, who the heck are these people, wandering outside at two in the morning? "They're called The Vipers," Michael answered the question for me, as if reading my mind.

"The what the who now?" I whispered in confusion.

"The Vipers, and let's just say, they don't really like me that well at the moment."

I mouthed an "oh" as the voices got louder outside.

"Where the fuck did he go?" An angry deep male voice echoes in the streets.

"Ariana, very quietly, I want you to shut the window then the curtains close."

"Michael, w-"

"Just do it," Michael hissed impatiently. "Okay, okay, I'll do it." I slowly raised my head above the window and I spotted a half a dozen men, standing under the moonlight.

"Let's spread out," one of them suggested and they disperse, searching for Michael. Oh Michael, what did you get yourself into?

I carefully slid the panel down, cringed at every squeak the window made, until it reached to the bottom of the window, fully closed. I locked the window just in case and drew the curtains in.

"Phew, I did it." I slouched on the wall, relived from getting caught. Michael was still pacing around my room, while deep in thought. It seems like he is plotting down his escape route in his head.