Dangerous Games (Michael Jackson Fan Fiction)

Chapter 11: Don't Be Messin' Around

I kept on driving, erasing any regret that had ever came across my mind. Michael was relaxing on the passenger seat, with his legs up on the dashboard. "Hey, be careful with that, I already got myself in trouble, I don't want any more trouble with my car." I prompt Michael to put down his legs, but he doesn't seem to listen.

I rolled my eyes as I decided to focus back on the road, I don't want to get myself killed today. Michael glanced at the stack of CDs that were lying near the dashboard of my car and starts looking through them, "What are these?" He asked as he continues to flip through them.

"They're my demos," I answered his question, "Peter and I wrote them together."

Michael seemed impressed with a number of songs I wrote with Peter over the years as he picked a CD and insert it into the CD player.

The first few seconds of the song Peter wrote for me, titled 'Grenade', starts playing through the speakers. My voice then follows which leads Michael bopping his head to the upbeat song.

When the song finished, he presses the eject button and pulled the CD out. He looked amazed as he looked at me speechless, gaping at me trying to get his words out but none seem to form. "You better shut your mouth before you swallow a fly." I chuckled as he continued to look at me in awe.

"I-I, I didn't know you're that good of a singer," Michael admitted, did he not hear me sing while I was practicing with our writing assignment with him during music yesterday?

"Why? What about yesterday?" I tested him, Michael returned to his cocky self as he flashed me with his million dollar smile, "Oh, that, was you? I'm sorry, I thought it was someone else singing our song."

I rolled my eyes at Michael once again, ignoring his smart aleck comments. As time had gone by, I decided to ask Michael a bit about Joseph, since it's a part of our deal.

"So, tell me something about Joseph," I started as casually as possible, but it doesn't seem to make things a whole lot better. The silence between us after that question is killing me inside, anxiously. Michael drew in a sharp breath before answering my question, "He is my father."

I looked at him for a second, his attention not to me, but towards the window, sadness clouding over his eyes, "Your father? What did he do?" I asked nervously, with my eyes on the road.

I think I have hit a rough spot right there when he looked at me with an intense gaze in his eyes as he said in a low whispered voice, "Can we please move on to something different to talk about?"

"Right, sorry," I said quickly, not trying to ruin the moment. Okay, so now I know Joseph is his dad, I only remembered his mom, definitely, but he never brought up his dad. Maybe I can learn more about it later on, once he gets more comfortable talking about it.

Soon, I can hear Michael humming something, like a melody to a song. He soon got into it, by tapping on the windscreen to get his beat, it was starting to sound good, "What is that you're working on?" I asked, changing the awkward mood. Michael stopped what he was doing and gave me a sheepish smile, "Nothing important." I know for a fact that, all that humming and tapping to a beat, is far from nothing.

"Come on, Michael, tell me, how often do you actually write songs?" I asked Michael curiously, he could secretly work for the music industry for all I know.

"Not a lot," I sensed a lie there, "Come on, Mike, spit it out!" I realized that whenever I called him Mike since this morning, he went all excited and bubbly, like that name is gold whenever I say it. Using this now can lead to grabbing his attention, and so it worked. Michael immediately smiled widely at the mention of his nickname and it evolved into a laugh.