"Can we go over that one more time?" Michael spoke to the stage manager as you and your best friend, Tina, groaned. Working for Michael Jackson wasn't the easiest job in the world - working as his assistant was even harder.
You and Tina worked as personal assistants to, the one and only, Michael Jackson. A lot of the time, working for him annoyed you because he was such a perfectionist. He wanted everything done perfectly.
As you and Tina sat backstage, you looked at her and whispered.
"He's always so....fussy," you bit your lip. "Tell me again why we applied for a job with the most fussy man in the world?"
"Because we needed the money," Tina laughed before setting her hands on her lap, eyeing one of the backup dancers that we knew to be John.
"Oooh!" you giggled. "Someone has a crush!"
Tina blushed and rolled her eyes.
"Go on!" I pushed her gently. "Go and talk to him!" you urged her once everyone had decided to take a fifteen minute break.
"No," she mumbled shyly. "What if he doesn't feel the same?"
"Then you two can be friends. Don't be over ambitious,"
Tina took in a deep breath before nodding and standing up - slowly making her way over to John.
As you decided to begin jotting notes down into my notebook, you felt someone approach, and sit down next to you. When you turned my head, you realized that it was Frank.
"Hey, kiddo," Frank smiled at you, patting me on the back as a sign of greeting. "What are you doing?"
"Getting Me. Fussypant's activities sorted out," you sighed.
The truth was you liked Michael - a lot. But you could never have been sure as to whether or not he liked you back.
"Come on, kiddo," Frank let out a breath. "Everyone knows how much you love Michael - and vise versa,"
My eyes widened slightly upon Frank's words. I had always adored Michael - in fact, he was the main reason I always woke up in the morning.
Sure, I wanted to love him back - but knowing that it may have finally come true, was a whole other story.
"I don't know..." I trailed off. "Besides, Michael isn't my type," I lied.
Just as those words left my mouth, I saw Michael standing before us. I hadn't seen him come from the back, and so I wasn't sure just how much he had heard.
"Michael..." I mumbled in confusion as he stared me down.
"I'm not your type?"
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