Pins & Needles (Michael Jackson)

{2} Comfort & New Opportunities

Pushing through the doors of the office, Michael recalled the memories of what'd happened earlier that week. The anxiety attack that'd left him and his mother in complete fear.

As Michael walked into the waiting room, he took a seat, waiting to begin pouring his heart out any minute.

"Michael," Celeste called out, holding the door open. He admired her, his hearting practically leaping out of his chest. "Come on in."

Michael shook his head, trying to put himself back in the right state of mind. She's your therapist, not some crush, his thoughts reminded him. Keep your mind on the main priority: getting yourself healed. "Oh, right," he giggled nervously. "Sorry, let's go."

They began their walk to Celeste's office, and Michael continued stealing glances at her. She's so pretty, he thought to himself. But no, you can't get caught up in the wrong idea. She's here to help you, that's it.

"Hey, uh...Celeste," Michael started. "I'm sorry for last session, I really broke down, and—"

"Don't even finish that sentence, it's okay," Celeste assured him. "I've dealt with worse, and when I see someone break down like that, especially you, I have to comfort them."

Michael gave her a small smile in thanks. Especially you, that part stayed ringing in Michael's ear.

When they arrived, Michael took a seat at the usual red chair that Celeste had. She sat down, grabbing her note pad and taking the pen from behind her ear.

"So, Michael, what's been going on with you with you this week?" Celeste began asking. "Have things been getting better?"

Michael's gaze cast down at his fidgety hands. "Unfortunately, no. I had a real bad anxiety attack just a few days ago."

Celeste's brown eyes immediately filled with sympathy as she began writing down Michael's words. "I'm sorry, Michael," she told him honestly. "Tell me, what caused it?"

"Well...my mother came over to visit, and while I was busy in the kitchen, I overheard her talking my f-father out of beating my siblings," Michael informed her, rubbing his nose in his usual nervous habit.

"Your siblings," Celeste started. "Tell me about them."

Michael's face lit up. "Their names are Randy and Janet, and they're the only siblings who still live with my parents. They're the babies of the family. I just...I can't imagine them going through what I did. I got it the worst, and to think he'd want to hurt them, too...it makes me sick."

"Michael, listen, from what you're telling me...your anxiety attack didn't stem from your father this time. It stemmed from your fear of history repeating itself, especially with your loved ones," Celeste advised him, keeping close eye contact with him. "Like you said, they're the babies of the family, so you're extra protective of them."

Michael nodded in an understanding manner. "That's exactly what it is. I'm just so scared that something's going to happen to them."

As she continued writing, Celeste looked up to see the fear and hurt in Michael's gaze. The sight of that made her heart ache. "My advice to you is to see if you could set up a visit with Randy and Janet. Checking up on them would be a great way to reassure you of a lot."

"Thank you, Celeste," Michael stated honestly. "Where would I be without you?"

"Just doing my job," Celeste laughed.

Michael began staring at her for a long moment. She quickly noticed this, and began blushing.

"What?" Celeste asked shyly.

Michael blinked in order to get out of his dazed state. "I...I love your laugh," he realized what he'd just said. "Sorry, I just—"

"Don't stress it," Celeste insisted softly. "And thank you."

You've got it bad for her.

The rest of the session contained of Celeste continuing to give Michael advice for his current situation. There were many moments where Michael felt his heart flutter, just at Celeste's presence. But, he remained silent about those feelings, and tried pushing them away.

***

Back at Michael's apartment, he heard a slight knock at the door. He sat himself up from the couch, and began making his way to see who'd paid him a visit.

"Who is it?" Michael asked softly.

"Man, who do ya' think it is, brother?" a man with a strong accent questioned.

A big smile made its way across Michael's lips. He opened the door to be greeted by his longtime friend. "Ah, Greg! Come in, please!"

Greg fell into Michael tight embrace. "Mike, it's been way too long! How have ya' been, brother?" he asked, taking off his coat.

"I'm hanging in there," Michael told him, as they made their way to the couch. "But enough about me. What's been up with you?"

"I've been good," Greg stated. "I actually came over here, because I wrote the bridge to this song, and I really wanted to know what ya' thought of it."

Michael's heart jumped at the mention of the thing he loved most: music. It was his escapism. Something that'd never fail him. "Okay, let me hear what you got. But first, you want anything to drink before we get started?"

Greg stood up from his place. "Brother, please, I know your apartment like the back of my hand. I'll get ya' and I a drink, don't worry about it."

"If you insist," Michael snorted.

A few moments later, Greg came back out with two drinks in his hand. He returned back to his spot on the couch as he handed Michael a beverage.

They clink!ed their bottles together before Greg pulled out the device that contained the bridge he'd written.

Michael listened attentively, and was amazed at the talent that came from his friend. "Greg...this is amazing," he told him, honesty filling his tone.

"Thank ya', Mike," Greg said sincerely. "I value your opinion a lot with this type of stuff."

"Of course, man! And thank you, that means a lot," Michael murmured with truth. Suddenly, a wave of realization came over him. He felt as if he couldn't get the statement out any faster. "Greg, you gotta let me have this bridge. I can finish the song, and you'll get your credit. I see great potential with it."

Greg's jaw practically dropped to the floor. "Are ya' serious?"

Michael's eyes flashed with excitement. "Yes, honestly!"

"Wow, Mike, I'd want nothing more," Greg said, pulling his friend into yet another embrace. "I know how talented ya' are musically, so please, take it!"

Michael felt a sense of joy; real joy. It was something he hadn't felt in a long time. He couldn't have felt any more at peace in that moment. He could only hope that this feeling would make itself known more often.

***

Yay! There wasn't much sadness this chapter! Annnnd Michael gets to use what he does best to bring himself a sense of happiness. Issa win/win! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I love you guys so much, always. Thank you for reading!