Words were coming out of his pen. He kept on writing. Where did those lines come from? Michael refused to take credit for anything. It was his belief that his ideas were sent from God. A higher intelligence that always helped him. He was a very spiritual person, but not exactly religious. Being a Jehova's Witness taught him a lot about discipline and rigor but never encouraged him to have a direct relationship with the Almighty One. He was scared of God back then.
With his newly found spirituality came this strange inspiration that kept him from sleeping at night. Whatever he was doing, wherever he was going, he could hear sounds, music, lyrics. It was all there, in plain sight for him. The only thing he had to do was take those ideas, polish them and present them to the hungry fans.
He decided to put an end to the songwriting process. A song title...It was quite obvious. "Fly Away". It sounded perfect. It had to be included in the final CD. Quincy knew when to let Michael concentrate. He always saw potential in his songwriting. The Bad album was going to be a huge success. The Thriller hype was still strong and the critics were waiting impatiently for his comeback.
Being such a well known superstar from such a tender age forced Michael to become very cautious. He hated being chased by the photographers. It seemed odd to him that those people were so curious to know everything about his private life. In his eyes, everything was different. The art he was putting out in the world was supposed to be the only thing visible to others. He craved privacy. But no one can have everything in life. Even the songwriting process was sacred to him. He put everything into the music. It was the only thing he knew how to do best.
Approaching the microphone with the paper in his hand, he began murmuring the lyrics. Quincy was recording everything. He knew that everything Michael did in the studio was gold and could be auctioned in the future. Watching him "give birth" to the melody, the chorus, was a delight. The way he chewed his lip and furrowed his eyebrows was precious. He began to stomp his foot. Quincy was beyond excited. He cared for Michael, even though his mouth was foul most of the times.
----
Reese sat on a kitchen counter. Madonna was curling her hair. Their friendship began a few years ago, back when Madonna's first album dropped. They met at a pub in New York and became friends in an instant. Most people were repulsed by her cockiness and racy behavior. To many people, she was too much to handle but Reese loved that about her. She was all about getting out of the comfort zone and having courage to express yourself.
"Your store is the shit. It really is. I am proud of you."
"I'll take that as a compliment. Thanks!" Reese grinned.
"So, shouldn't you be in Vegas now, taking care of the legal stuff?" Madonna knew something was up.
"Madge, I have everything under control. I am here on a quick trip with someone..." She was quite nervous about telling her. Reese knew that Madonna and Michael were rivals.
"Someone? Hm. You have a boytoy and you didn't tell me?" She dropped the curling iron and sat on the kitchen floor.
"Well, he's not exactly a boytoy. It's not like that. I think it's getting serious..." Reese began playing with her hair. Just the thought of Michael made her heart jump out of her chest.
"Is he rich? Reese, why do I have to ask so many questions? Just tell me more. You know I'm a curious bitch." Madonna's fake English accent made Reese laugh.
"He's...Michael." Reese smiled widely and grabbed a bottle of whiskey near her. It was mandatory to drink alcohol in Madonna's presence.
"Jordan? Damn, he's tall as fuck. What the..."
Reese chocked on her whiskey.
"Jackson!" she screamed. "Not Jordan. Jackson!"
Madonna's blue eyes widened and her jaw dropped. Reese was definitely not expecting this kind of reaction. She was getting mentally prepared for an avalanche of uncomfortable questions.
"He's not your type. He's a prude!"
Reese began laughing. The alcohol took over. "You're dead wrong. He's the most...amazing man I've ever met. I ain't joking."
"I invited him to my apartment once. We watched a movie and I remember he tried to hold my hand. He's probably too romantic for me. He's definitely not the talk dirty type. And he freaked out when I told a little girl to leave us alone when we were at a restaurant. He's very conservative."
The alcohol didn't stop Reese from thinking straight. She had no idea about their so-called date and those details. She knew that Michael was a sensitive man and he was probably offended by Madonna's overly provocative attitude. It surely wasn't Michael's fault, and he most certainly wasn't a prude. That was ridiculous.
"I don't fuckin' care. He's amazing. He's an angel."
A knock on the door. Two. Three. Madonna got up. Reese was still in the kitchen, taking small sips from her whiskey bottle. Whenever she was happy, alcohol was near. Madonna came back into the kitchen and whispered: "It's Michael. Should I open the door?"
Reese's heart stopped. She put the heavy bottle down. Her head was spinning and her body started to have a weird reaction, but not from the whiskey. She totally forgot that he'd come to the apartment. She could feel her temples throbbing. "Yes! Hurry up!"
Madonna rolled her eyes and unlocked the door. "Long time no see. What's up?" Michael's voice was very low, Reese could barely hear it. "I'm here for Reese. I know it's late but I promised I'd come pick her up." In that moment, Reese got up and approached the door. "Hey. Come in." she said.
Michael was very reticent. He wore a different shirt. His fedora was missing and his curls were in a ponytail. His eyes were red and visibly tired. "I missed you." he whispered, totally ignoring Madonna. His hands grabbed Reese's waist while his lips claimed hers. He could sense the sweet taste of whiskey on her lips. He knew that Madonna would spoil her with alcohol. He didn't like that.
"Lovebirds, you need to get a room. I can see something rising inside your pants, Mike. What could it be?" Michael broke the kiss. He covered his face with one hand, trying to hide a blush. Reese turned and faced Madonna, giving her a cold glare. "Stop it, Madge." Michael giggled. "You're embarrassing me. Why would you say that?" Madonna shrugged. "Just stating the obvious."
Michael shook his head and looked at Reese. "Do you wanna sleep here? Or come with me to Quincy's house?" Reese didn't know what to do. It wasn't a wise idea to show up in front of Michael's manager. They had to think more about this situation. Madonna moved next to the two of them and placed her hands on both their shoulders. "You guys can stay here. I have an empty room. I bet we'll have a lot of fun!"
He smiled in gratitude and took Madonna's hand in his. "Thank you for your kindness. I appreciate it!" Madonna laughed loudly, showing the famous gap between her teeth. "Don't worry, Mike. We're cool. I'm doing it for Reese." With that said, she showed them their room and popped a chewing gum in her mouth. "That's your room. If you guys wanna continue the party, I'm here. I'll be up all night...Waiting for someone." Reese gave Madonna a wink and entered the room.
Michael entered the room shyly and closed the door behind him. "She's so sweet, I wasn't expecting this from her." he whispered. Reese knew that the rivalry was making him uncomfortable. It seemed like Madonna decided to be the first to put an end to it by showing her kindness. "That's how she's always been. She's had a tough childhood and is very streetwise!"
Shrugging it off, Michael approached Reese and pulled her close. Reese placed her hands around his back and buried her nose in his curls. He smelled amazing even after a hard night of work in the studio. "How was it at the studio?" she asked, dragging him on the bed. He threw himself on the bed but refused to take his hands off her. "It was alright. I already recorded a demo for a new song I just wrote...It's called Fly Away." Reese was amazed. "Could you sing it for me a bit? I'm curious!" He became embarrassed. The lyrics were obviously about her. His lips touched her ear. He didn't want her to see his flushed face.
"Our love's an ocean
Give me a notion
Cause you know we'll never part
Our love goodbye
Our love's a season
Give me a reason
Cause you know we'll never part
Our love goodbye
And together we'll fly
I'll give you my heart
No place too far for us
We don't need it
Baby, don't make me
Baby, don't make me
Baby, don't make me
Fly away
Gonna stay
Love today..."
The way he softly sang the song in her ear, the way his lips brushed her skin made her feel electric. Like she was literally on fire. His presence was so powerful, his aura was intoxicating. The excitement couldn't ever fade. Everything he did was captivating. It sent shivers down her spine and drove her crazy. She looked into his eyes and saw a mirror of herself. His eyes were burning with lust. "That song is amazing, Michael...And the way you sang it in my ear made it even better..." In that moment he forgot about his problems, his tiredness. He was turned on. Reese could feel something rigid against her leg. But in that exact moment, they both stopped when they heard someone in the other room moaning and screaming loudly. It was Madonna and the boytoy she expected all night...