❛ You pay the price of fame,
So don't be feeling no pain. ❜
⸺ ( Michael x black!oc )
Imani Sade, renowned songwriter and musician, has been working for the biggest Pop stars of the industry while staying behind the scenes for years. Due to her mu...
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Neverland Ranch, sometime in the 90's.
His long fingers were lightly tapping on the armrest of his chair in an irregular rhythm, his eyes absently staring down at the wooded floor of his living room, as if he was still searching for a clear explanation.
Even though the room was huge and spacious, the walls seemed to be getting dangerously closer to his body. Although his seat was comfortable, it didn't soothe down the pain caused by the immense weight his back was carrying. He felt like a claustrophobic stuck in a small elevator.
When the last lightning got turned on, his eyes immediately shut close, no more used to having this many spotlights shining on them. An hand gently landed on his left shoulder, softly squeezing it.
He slowly raised his head and was greeted by the sympathetic smile of Liz Taylor. He stared at her for a few seconds, trying to mirror her smile, but his lips only formed a thin line. Liz's grin faded sorrowfully, before she walked away, leaving her friend by himself again.
Soon after, an other hand made it's way to his shoulder. Karen, his makeup artist, was holding a palette in her right hand. She stepped in front of him and bent down to his level, carefully getting some hair out of his face before applying a bit of foundation on his forehead.
When she was done, she stared at him for a few seconds before opening her mouth, then closing it back. He blankly watched her get back up and leave.
"Is everything ready?!" A voice shouted while the sound of heels tapping the floor got nearer.
Oprah Winfrey enthusiastically walked in the room, with a notebook in hands. When she saw him, her eyes lit up as she hurried in his direction.
"Michael!" She exclaimed, spreading her arms, contemplating the place. "I'm so glad that you're letting us in here to interview you after so long. Thank you! And the ranch is beautiful!"
Her facial expression clearly not matching his, he sluggishly got out of his seat, mentally cringing at the sudden ache in his back, before stretching his hand out to her.
"Thank you Oprah, I think it's necessary to do it now, for the fans..."he said nodding.
"Of course, for the fans..." she looked around at the staff members that were setting everything up."Are you ready?"she asked, flashing him the biggest grin she possibly could.
He shrugged, "Whenever you are."
"Alright!" she clapped her hands, turning around.
Michael sat back down and glanced over at Elizabeth, who was now sitting on an amplifier next to Karen. She gave him a supporting grin before mouthing 'it's gonna be okay'.
He lead his eyes back to Oprah who was sitting down on a chair in front of him, putting her notes on her thighs.
"In three...two...one!" a member of the recording crew loudly said. Michael shifted in his sit, trying to look as comfortable as he could for the cameras.
"Good evening! I'm Oprah Winfrey, bringing you a world exclusive interview with the most elusive superstar in the history of music; Michael Jackson!"
Michael softly smiled, not knowing what else he was supposed to do. Oprah continued.
"But this interview will not only be focusing on the life of the King Of Pop alone. Indeed, this interview will be broadcasted after '2 SIDES.' a documentary that will air during the anniversary of the sudden passing of, undeniably, one of the most intriguing and fascinating characters in Pop culture's history. Singer, songwriter and actress; Imani Sade.
The sound of her name made Michael's eyes glance down uncomfortably, he started to wonder if it really was a good idea to have this conversation right now. But he couldn't cancel it now, it was too late, and he had to let it out somehow, the fans deserved at least that.
"So, Michael," Oprah began, catching back Michael's attention. "What was Imani to you? What place did she occupy in you heart?". She asked looking at his eyes intensively.
He looked up for a few seconds, debating on all the possible answers he could give, then a small smile appeared on his face, the first smile of the day.
"To me," he began, putting his right leg over the other, "Imani was a friend...a lover...a confidante...my go-to person...my light." He posed, "She represented that for a ton of people all around the world as well." He felt his eyes get watery at the last part, but he quickly blinked it away.
Oprah comprehensively nodded her head. "And when did all of this start? In the late 80's right?"
Michael shook his head no, before going on.
"Actually, not the late 80's. I mean...it did start in the late 80's but we first came into contact during the early eighties."
"Well," she smiled taking her pen in her fingers, "We're going to start from the beginning then, alright?"
