no snow

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February 4th, 1985

Ariana

I hold my hot mug with both hands as the steam from the freshly brewed cup of coffee hits my face all while observing the view I have from my backyard, it overlooks the city of LA. Watching the hectic town is almost entertaining.

It just sucks that there's no snow here, I've always wanted the winter time to feel like actual winter but the best we get is a couple degrees lower than the usual temperature.

As my eyes drift from the window back to my notebook, I suddenly get the inspiration to finish one of my songs I'm writing.

It's called Thinking Bout You and it has to be my favourite song I've wrote so far. It may or may not be about Michael, but let's not get into that. Speaking of songs, I'm planning on releasing my album this year actually. I really don't know when but I just want it to be out by the summer.

I don't know, I'm just trying to get it done because I can't wait to release it.

Before I can continue jotting down the lyrics I had in my mind, I hear a loud knock on the door.

Since I'm the only one up, I hop out of my chair, notebook in hand and swing open the front door.

To my surprise, Michael stands there with a bouquet of white roses, may I say, looking as fashionable as ever.

I'm pleased yet confused at the same time.

"Michael." I pull him in for a hug and peck his lips. "What are you doing here?" I ask, placing my journal down at the table besides the entrance.

"Well, I thought I'd just come over and hang around." My eyes drift down to the set of flowers and he continues speaking. "These are for your mother, by the way." A cheeky smile appears on his face as he hands me the roses.

"You're too sweet." I rush back to the kitchen and quickly find a cup, filling it up with cold water and sticking the flowers in there almost immediately.

This should do for now.

"So, where is everybody?" He questions as he joins me in the kitchen.

"My mom is out running errands with my nonna and grandfather." I say as I sit back down in my chair.

Michael nods along to my answer and sits down as well.

"So, how's your music coming along? You coming up with anything new?" Though there was no point in me asking because knowing Michael, he was always coming up with something new.

"I have some little bits and pieces I've worked on but I don't plan on really releasing anything until maybe next year at the earliest. What about you?"

"I honestly want to release my first album by the end of the summer." He widens his eyes and his face lights up with a grin. "That's amazing, do you have a name in mind yet?"

I shake my head. "Not yet, I just want it to be something special and something that makes sense, you know?" He nods.

"So, have you written any songs about me?" His smug face causes me to roll my eyes, trying to hide my smile.

"Maybe, maybe not. It's no big deal." I try playing it off even though the inside of me is blushing.

"Oh really? Because I think I saw your notebook at the front table, you wouldn't mind if I took a look would you?" He gestures to the foyer.

"You wouldn't dare." My face drops from laughter to seriousness.

"But I think I would." And with that sentence, Michael runs to the front of the house and grabs my notebook almost immediately. Since I'm hovering around 5 ft to 5"2, I'm much smaller than Michael's 5"9 frame.

As he waves the book above me, he flips it open to a random page and starts to recite it.

May I say that I've had this journal since the age of 12 and even if I haven't always been using it, there are some wicked embarrassing things in there that I've wrote so the last thing I need is him seeing 12 year old me gush over 18 year old him.

"Dear Diary, I just got back home from the Jackson's house and Michael was looking extra-"

I quickly elbow him in the stomach, causing him to drop the book and hold his gut.

I scramble onto the floor and pick up the notebook, holding it tight in my grip, never letting this thing go again.

As Michael dramatically sits on the floor acting as if he's just got shot, I catch up with my breaths.

"I love you but I will kill you if you ever open this journal again."

"Trust me, I believe you." The salty tone in his voice leads me to think he's learned his lesson.

"Good."

I sit beside him on the ground, resting my head on his shoulder.

"So, no ones home..."

"Yup." I say, emphasizing the P.

"Just you and me."

"Mhm." I hum.

"Wanna watch Peter Pan?" The excitement in his voice is like a crazed kid.

"We always watch Peter Pan." I groan.

"I'll buy dinner."

"So, you wanted to watch Peter Pan?" The corners of my mouth lift up as I'm instantly convinced by dinner. Now just thinking about what we should have is where it gets tricky.

⊹⊱✫⊰⊹

hi everyone! i'm sorry this chapter is so short but I just wanted to quickly get something out for y'all. I know it was boring but more drama is going to come next up i swear.

anyway i hope you all have a good day/night and remember to always follow, vote and comment ur opinions on things i can improve. thanks xoxo

byeeee

let me love you ~ michael jackson & ariana grandeWhere stories live. Discover now