"Tell me you don't still love me, I'll leave you alone if you can say that." He questioned.
"Mike we're on in forty-five!" I heard a male's voice shout excitedly from behind the door.
The sound of live music surrounded us, as the starting act bega...
A/N: Hey ya'll okay so after EIGHT years I decided that it was time to give this another shot. I have several parts completed and will be publishing them accordingly. Let me know if y'all want me to keep updating.
Like everyone else I went to see the Michael movie and I left so deeply touched. It's crazy that I thought Jaafar looked like his uncle in '09 and to see him do this movie is FULL circle. Enjoy!!
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Prologue: A Grim Encounter
Present day, 1983
New York, 1983 — Plaza Hotel
His mind raced as he searched for a way out of the predicament unfolding in front of him. He never really thought she would take it this far.
It's just a PR relationship.
Those six words kept circling through his clouded mind.
Now Brooke's face hovered only inches away from his lap. For a brief moment he was tempted to let things continue, but reality quickly settled back over him. This wasn't what he wanted. Brooke was an acquaintance — someone who had recently entered his world because people believed he needed to appear more relatable to a wider audience.
"Michael, what's the matter?" Brooke asked softly, lifting slightly from her crouched position so their eyes met.
Her breath carried warmth even through the denim of his jeans. The sound of her voice snapped him from his thoughts. Only moments earlier he had asked her to stop trying to unzip his pants. The sight of her hand resting against his midsection was undeniably arousing, he had to admit that much.
There was no turning back now. Things would always be awkward between them after this moment and whatever happened next.
Again his thoughts wandered.
What kind of man turns down Brooke Shields?
The truth was simple. He just wasn't interested in her that way.
And from the few months he'd known her, Brooke seemed like the type of woman who would want something serious after intimacy. He couldn't use her like that. Not the way he had used other girls before. He had been trying hard to break those habits and, until tonight, he felt like he had been doing a pretty good job.
There were certain things people expected from someone in his position. Certain images that sold records and headlines. Dating women who were "universally" considered to be beautiful was one of them, whether he truly wanted to or not.
"It's not that I don't want to," he said carefully.
That was all it took for Brooke's expression to change. The softness in her eyes vanished almost instantly, replaced by embarrassment and anger.
"Fine," she snapped as she stood abruptly to her feet.
"Forget this ever happened."
She grabbed her purse from the dresser across the suite while Michael watched helplessly from his chair. He genuinely felt bad for her. But, in his mind, stopping things now was kinder than allowing them to go further.
Especially after the conversations they'd had earlier that evening.
Brooke had opened up to him about her drinking and the complicated relationship she had with her mother. They had shared a few wine coolers after arriving back at the suite, and Michael couldn't shake the feeling that maybe she wasn't making decisions completely clearly tonight.
Part of him wanted to stop her from leaving just to make sure she wasn't driving home upset, but another part of him knew staying would only make things worse.
So he remained silent while she stormed around the room gathering her things.
Diana Ross had damaged him more deeply than anyone realized. This time felt different. Permanent somehow. He was tired of feeling emotionally led around, tired of behaving like a lost puppy every time someone offered him affection. He wasn't a teenager anymore.
"I'm leaving," Brooke announced from the doorway.
She paused there, waiting for Michael to acknowledge her. When he finally looked up, she tightened her grip around the doorknob.
"And if anybody needs to contact me..." she began.
"DON'T."
The suite door flew open. Brooke rushed out, slamming it behind her hard enough to make Michael jump in his chair. Her footsteps echoed loudly through the suite until another distant door slammed moments later with just as much force.
For a second Michael simply sat there staring ahead.
Then, despite himself, he burst into laughter.
"Poor girl," he muttered under his breath.
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Michael Jackson as Michael Jackson
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