Imagine walking around the ruins of Mörby Castle just north of Stockholm. So far you haven’t run into anyone else. You continue taking pictures and as you turn the corner, you see a man, sitting on what’s left of a stonewall, looking out a window. He seems to be completely lost in thought and doesn’t realize you’re there. As you walk closer, you suddenly stop and your heart begins to beat wildly as you recognize this man. You’re not sure if you should leave or approach him. You stand there quietly and watch him for a few moments before deciding to give him his privacy. Just as you turn to leave you hear, “Please don’t leave on my account.”
You turn back and see him looking at you. “I don’t want to bother you.”
“You’re not bothering me. Actually, you surprised me by not approaching me.”
“I thought about it.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“You seemed lost in thought. I also didn’t want to scare you by suddenly appearing next to you.”
“I’ve heard stories that these ruins may be haunted.” You laugh. “Do you know who I am?”
“I’ve been a fan of yours since I was little.” He raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the United States right now on the Victory Tour with your brothers?” He doesn’t answer you. You see a brief look of anger flash in his eyes before sadness appears. He looks down. You walk over and sit down next to him. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”
He looks at you. “It’s not you upsetting me.” He leans back against the wall and looks straight ahead.
“Michael?” He looks at you. “May I call you Michael?”
“Michael, Mike, either one is fine.”
“I actually like Mikey.” He smiles at you. Your heart skips a beat because you know it’s a genuine smile. His eyes lit up with that smile. “What’s making you angry and sad at the same time, if you don’t mind me asking?”
He sits there looking at you. His eyes tell you he’s fighting an internal battle about whether or not to talk to you. “What’s your name?” he finally asks.
“Helena.”
“That’s a beautiful name. Are you still in school, Helena?”
“I completed Gymnasieskola in June. I think that may be high school in the United States.”
“You must be around eighteen then.”
“I turned nineteen in April.”
“Nineteen,” he repeats then looks down. After several quiet moments, he asks without looking at you, “Have you ever fought so hard with your family that you can’t stand to be in the same room with them?”
“No. Is that what has you angry and sad?” He nods his head yes. “I’m sorry.”
“We have an eight day break between venues. I needed to get away, as far away as I could.” He turns and looks at you. “I hate this Tour. Our sponsor is complaining about the size and weight of the stage – a stage I designed; my father and brothers came up with an outrageous ticket scheme against my will; we’re losing money because we’re not selling out anymore; our fans are outraged over the prices. I hate it. I should never have agreed to it. Once this Tour is over, I’m never performing with them again.”
He looks at you for a moment then stands and walks a few steps away from you.
You saw the pain in his eyes the minute he said he wouldn’t perform with his brothers again. His eyes betrayed his words and he knew it. But you know in your heart he’ll hold true to his words and this Tour will be the last time they’re together on stage. You stand and walk over to him. Without any hesitation you take his hand in yours. He turns to you with tears in his eyes. It breaks your heart to see him like that so you pull him into a hug.
In the distance you hear, “Sweetheart. Helena?” Pulled from your memories by the sound of Michael’s voice, you feel his arms around you. You realize you’re not in the ruins of Mörby Castle. Instead you’re on the couch of a private jet Michael chartered, looking out the window. You lean back against him and close your eyes. “What were you thinking about, Sweetheart?” he asks as he places a kiss on your cheek.
You smile.
“Us.”
You feel his fingers under your chin gently turning your face toward him. You open your eyes and look at him. “What about us has tears falling from these beautiful green eyes of yours? I just kissed a tear rolling down your cheek.”
“I was thinking about the day we met. You were so sad. It broke my heart seeing you like that.” You shift in his arms a little to look more fully at him. “What made you comfortable enough to break down in my arms like you did? You knew me 20, maybe 25 minutes. We spent the next few days having fun together and then you asked me to join you for the rest of the Tour. I saw first hand the tension between everyone but we’ve never talked about those first couple of hours after we met.”
He kisses you then rests his head against yours. “When you walked in, I was well aware of your presence. I just didn’t feel like moving and I was hoping and praying you wouldn’t recognize me. I knew you did the moment you stopped and I suddenly wanted you gone, but then you did the unexpected. You watched me without saying a word or moving a muscle and then you started to leave. Part of me wanted you to leave, but part of me wanted you to stay. For someone who knew who I was, you didn’t act the part. You respected my space. You respected me. That’s why I decided to tell you not to leave. When you sat next to me, you were genuine and sincere. It wasn’t about who I was. It was about what was going on inside me. I was very lonely when you walked in. I felt very alone in this world and suddenly you were there. I didn’t feel alone anymore. I felt like you were the close friend I’d been looking for all my life. When you hugged me, you felt good in my arms. You felt like a perfect fit, like you belonged in my arms. That’s why I held you so tightly. I needed that closeness. I needed to feel loved. That’s what you gave me. That’s why I was able to break down and let out all the garbage from the Tour. That comfort with you in that moment and the following days is what prompted me to ask you to finish the Tour with me. I thank God every day for bringing you into my life. I love you, Helena.” He lowers his head and kisses you.
Just as he increases the passion in his kiss, the plane experiences turbulence and Michael tenses up. He immediately breaks his kiss.
“Kiss me again, Mikey. It’s just an air pocket. Nothing’s going to happen.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not afraid of flying.”
You sit up and face him. You bring your hands up to his shirt, bunch it up in your hands just below his neck on each side and pull him toward you. “Kiss me,” you tell him before covering his mouth with yours. You feel his arms wrap around you and the tension leave his body as he gets lost in your kiss. After a few moments, you break your kiss and look at him. “Feel better?” He chuckles. “Nothing’s going to happen.”
“You really should listen to her, Mike. You’re definitely not as tense when she’s kissing you,” Bill, Michael’s bodyguard since Michael was eleven, says. You start laughing.
“Shut up, Bill,” Michael responds. You and Bill laugh harder.
To be continued. . .
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Thanks! ~ Vicki
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Happy Birthday, Sweetheart
FanfictionMJJ Imagine No. 9 A couple days in my friend Helena's imaginary life with Michael Jackson.
