dressing room 209

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Soon enough, nearly everyone has now arrived at the arena. We have all been stretching on the stage in a big circle for a while, while we wait for everyone to get here.
"Ah Sam! You're here!" Michael exclaims excitedly, "Now everyone's here, let's all take our places. From the top."
I scurry backstage to the left wing, like always. I was only a back up dancer in Another Part of Me and The Way You Make Me Feel. So, during the rest of the set I just get ready and watch. It never gets boring though, there's always something to look at.
The pounding music starts, and I decide to go to Michael's dressing room to get ready while I wait. I stroll down the long, wide corridor, glancing at each black door as I walked past. I finally reached the door that said 'Michael Jackson' on a laminated piece of white paper, hanging on the door. Room 209. I push down the silver handle and step in.
His dressing room was fairly small and simple, as we are only using the arena to rehearse, we'll be gone soon. It had a little red couch against the back wall, beside a glass table. There was a light grey rug on the floor beneath a big make up table. I walk to the table and sit on the wooden stool, in front of the illuminated mirror.
I can feel the bass of the music vibrating the ground, as I touch up my makeup. I borrow Michael's eyeliner and concealer, which I will keep to myself for if he found it he would flip. I then style my curled hair into a half up-half down do. My hair was overly huge for shows, which looked crazy but for some reason gave me a confidence boost. The booming music was a muffled sound in here, but still somehow made everything shake slightly.
I check the time, and it's almost time for Another Part of Me so I decide to make my way back to the stage.
I pull down the cold, metal handle, but the door didn't move. I decide to try again and pull harder, but it doesn't budge.
I bang my fist against the door.
"Hello?" I shout, "Can anyone hear me?"
I start to panic. I hate being trapped in small places.
How could this happen? Someone must have locked me in.
My bets are on Hannah.
I continue to hit the door and shout, but soon give up. There was no use. No one could hear me over the booming music.
I hear Another Part of Me begin, and sigh. That was my cue. I slide my back down the door in defeat,
The music then stops completely.
I squeal with joy, Michael must have realised something was up when I wasn't in my spot. They should come looking for me soon.
In the distance, I can now hear voices. And footsteps.
"Belle?" I hear from a familiar, gentle voice. Michael.
"Michael!" I shout, shaking the door handle up and down.
"Belle? Where are you!" He shouts.
"You're dressing room!" I shriek. I can't believe this even happened to me. Just my luck.
"Belle." Michael says quietly, his voice now just the other side of the door.
"Someone locked me in!" I say, with confusion and frustration.
"Who would do that?" He says quietly.
"I don't know, just get me out please." I moan. I'd been in here 20 minutes and it felt like forever. There's absolutely nothing to do in here.
"I don't have the key. Let me find someone who does. I'll be right back baby." He says, I then hear his feet scurry off.
Minutes later, I hear the clink of keys in the keyhole. I am now laying on the red couch, I might as well get comfy.
The door then swings open, and Michael is stood in the doorway. "Belle!" He shouts running over to hug me.
"Baby, I'm sorry if I ruined the show." I say, engulfed in his arms.
"Of course you get locked in a room by a crazy person, and apologise." He chuckles, "You're too good, Belle Smith."
"Love you." I whisper, kissing his neck.
"I love you. Wait I never told you, I saw someone wearing all black running away from the door when I came back with the key." He says, looking into my eyes.
"Running away? Why would they do that?" I say.
"I don't know, but someone's trying to get you." He says, his eyes looking around the room. My eyes widen in fear. "They won't touch you, don't worry. I have so much security."
"But someone managed to lock me in!" I say fearfully.
"True." Michael said, sighing.
"What did they look like?" I say.
"I could only see a black figure. But they looked tall, possibly male?" He says, frowning in thought.
"Well, we can't take that to the police." I chuckle.
"We don't need to go to the police, baby. For all we know at this point it was a stupid prank. Let's just carry on the show." He said walking out the room, holding my hand.
"I'm not waiting in the wing to be kidnapped." I say, certainly.
"No one will kidnap you!" He giggles, "But you can sit on front row. That way I can see you, and so can everyone else. And you get to watch me perform." He winks.
"Ok, that sounds fine I guess." I say smiling, he really knows how to fix everything.
Minutes later, I'm sat in front row on a red fold out chair beside Frank DiLeo.
"You got locked up, huh?" He chuckles, making me feel a bit stupid.
"Yeah, it's nothing." I laugh. Although it did scare me a bit.
The show continues on, and I gaze at Michael. He owns the stage. His dancing, singing, everything. His stage presence is phenomenal. And I'm not just saying that because I'm his girlfriend. The whole world knows, that's why he's as big as he is.
I fall in love with him more and more as I watch. And I grow to hate Hannah more and more as she grinds on Michael and flips her red, dry hair around.
Human Nature really gives me goosebumps. The way he barely moves, and his vocals take over, but it's still the best goddamn show you'll ever see. The glistening lights at the back look like a starry night sky. The spotlight on my baby, making him glow like some God. He occasionally looks down at me and smiles or winks, checking I'm still here and enjoying the show. He gives me butterflies by doing literally nothing.

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