"Y/N, you promised me," Michael whined.
"Oh Michael," you sighed.
"Come on, I've gotta see some!"
"Okay, okay. I'll pull out some old pictures."
You walked to the cabinet in the den. It held an inventory of old pictures and tapes. After scanning the writing on each one, you spotted the box with your pictures.
"Okay, this is it," you said and lifted the heavy box.
Michael helped you set the box down and open it. He pulled out the first picture.
"Aww, look," he smiled.
You blushed as he cooed at your baby picture.
"You're embarrassing me!"
"Okay, sorry. I'll try to keep my 'aww's' to myself."
You rolled your eyes and looked at the next picture. He pulled out a photograph of you in a tube top and bell bottoms.
"Oh no," you giggled and hid your face in his shoulder.
"These are great pictures, especially for the time. How old were you here?"
"Probably around eight."
He giggled at a photo of you with an Afro.
"I tried the Afro once and decided against it. I preferred the Farrah Fawcett hairstyle."
"Back then, every girl did."
Michael pulled out a picture of you and him. The two of you were sitting down in the wings of the Royal Variety show in 1972.
"Holy cow, that's old!" You gasped.
"That's when we first met!"
"I remember watching performers from the wings with you. Those were simpler times."
"I miss those days. They were magical."
"They were, weren't they?"
~~~~
Flashback
"Wow, he's such a talent," you gasped.
The sound of footsteps behind you caused you to turn around. A boy with an Afro was gawking at you. He was wearing an orange and floral outfit.
"Hello!" You chirped.
"Hi," he smiled.
"My name is Y/N. Do you usually sit here? I'm sorry if I'm in your spot."
"No, it's alright. I'm glad I don't have to watch the performances alone."
He took a seat next to you.
"I didn't know anyone else had the interest. What's your name?"
"Michael, Michael Jackson. It's nice to meet you, Y/N. How old are you?"
"I'm thirteen. How old are you?"
"I'm fourteen," he replied.
"So, you like to watch the show from the wings too?"
