Where Theresa Evans is celebrating her birthday with her best friend, an esteemed superstar, in the Big Apple. But what happens when the shimmering city glow sparks a flame between the two childhood friends they're afraid to put out?
1977
The city was alive.
Her dark whiskey orbs watched in awe as neon signs in greens, reds, purples, and blues haloed a celestial glow over her umber-toned skin. Her warm breath created clouds against the cold glass window, a turmoil rumbling in her belly causing her anxious heart to somersault against her ribcage.
The banana-colored vehicle began to slow to a halt, turning on the wet asphalt of the Manhattan street. She let out a shaky breath, gripping her luggage bag with a new wave of angst roaring in her chest.
Sure, it was her first time in the city that never sleeps. So she could partially blame her butterflies on that excitement. But she'd grown up in a city. This new set of nerves, these were different. Expectant, like the first taste of Mama's apple pie after a special supper, or praying that the gift under a giant Christmas tree was the one you begged for.
After stuffing a few bills in the caddy's hand, her Mary-Jane heels met the wet street and she stared up at the crimson and hickory-bricked building on Sutton Street, craning her neck just enough to see the tippy top of it.
The gentle autumn wind tangled in her dark tresses, those nerves igniting as she cursed at her frozen feet to take a step inside.
But she was nervous— maybe because it was her birthday creeping around the corner. A birthday she said she would redefine her entirely. Or maybe, she thought as she stepped into the elevator of the building, it was because she was seeing the one person who understood her the most for the first time in what felt like eons.
Knocking gently on the mahogany door, she bit back a giddy smile as she shifted on her toes in anticipation.
"Who is it?" a familiar, cautious voice called on the other side.
Wide grin now, "Pizza man!" she replied deepening her vocal chords as best she could.
She could barely contain her giggles after a pregnant pause of silence, then the door swung open and a warmth filled her at the sight of the large, bright smile on his brown face. Much brighter than any celestial glow from the city.
"Get in here girl and give me a hug," He exclaims, pulling her against his slender frame, "It's so goooood to see you, Reesie." his voice sang.
She giggled against him, squeezing the man with all her might. "I almost thought I got you there, Mikey." she laughed.
"Please, Reesie!" he chuckled clicking his tongue. She watched him grab her luggage and start walking down the narrow hall. His voice called back, "You gotta do better than that!"
She beamed, feeling her nerves die down. Doing a small twirl as she absorbed the large place. It was fancy, much fancier than her dorm on campus. Hell, she'd say it was even fancier than her room back home. Her dark eyes landed on the window. She felt high in the sky in the Manhattan home, overlooking the concrete jungle of New York City, the same twinkling lights cascading all over almost like stars.
"Oh wow." She breathed.
"Well, Reesie, welcome to my home! Well-– me and 'Toya's home."
The girl turned, her breath hitching as she really looked at him.
In just a year, it seemed, he had matured greatly. His once boyish features were stiffening out into a young man. A more defined jaw, muscles had plumped out on his slender arms, and a halo of curls circled into a perfect afro. His acne was gone too, and she swore she saw slight stubble peeking above his plump lips. His dark doe eyes bore brightly into hers, maybe absorbing her too.
Phone calls weren't enough to erase the longing she had for her dear friend. Her everything.
She jibed, keeping things light like always, "Well... other than that big ol' head of yours, don't look like you changed much, Mikey."
"Well other than your bigger butt, you ain't either," He snorted blessing her with a goofy grin. This caused her to swat at him. He laughed running and dodging her, both of them falling on the large, dark-colored sofa in the space.
"And! I actually go by Theresa now," she said kicking off her shoes, "It's more sophisticatin' soundin'. I am a college girl now."
She watched her best friend roll his eyes, "Yeah well you gone always be my Reesie. I ain't ever called you that in my life." he retorted jokingly.
Theresa was the one to roll her eyes then, she had hoped to shed away her childhood nickname. But she knew Michael, he called everyone something silly. Reesie Girl was his special name for her, had been since they were just eleven years old.
"This place is spectacular," She breathed, looking around again at the open concept of the large Manhattan apartment, "It's a whole lot bigger on the inside too. And it's actually clean."
"Ha-ha," Michael forced sarcastically, "'Toya does a good job at all that stuff. She likes things a certain way."
"Where is she anyway? I was hoping to see her, too."
"Shopping, on some date or something. I don't know. She'll be back, though."
Theresa nodded her head, doing another once-over of the large space. She had grown up only two doors down from the family, her father being a musician in his own right, jazz. He had hated the direction music had gone back then. But who knew when they crossed over to the large estate to welcome the new neighbors that it would indeed be some of the youngest superstars out of Motown? She had grown close to the entire family, but she and Michael, their bond was different, solid.
Now, staring at her best friend as he talked a mile a minute about whatever, sitting on his sofa in his New York home, the buzzing of the city still fresh in her ears; she felt a tugging at her heartstrings again. Her silly best friend was a superstar, he always had been sure— but he was skyrocketing into an orbit unforeseen now. Doing movies, bigger tours, and moving across the country to pursue his dreams. He was growing up. They both were.
And that scared her.
"Ree-sie!" She heard him call.
"Yes? What?"
Michael fell into a fit of laughter, "I asked how school was going. Last time we talked you said you couldn't decide on a major."
"O-oh! Sorry, yeah I think I'm gonna do literature or drama. I'm still not sure. My dad wants me to pursue acting the most, get into showbiz but I don't know."
"Well you was always good at that. And you the only person that could bust a move and keep up with me." He stood then, doing a quick step causing her to laugh again. "'Sides, being here this week may help you decide!"
"Yeah, maybe." Theresa smiled, the sadness of heading home already overwhelming her. Four full days would never feel enough.
A strange sense overcame her again, angst crashing against her bones. Different this time, one that she had been trying to ignore for far too long it seemed. But she was here, with Michael, she should be feeling happy, right?
The girl stood on her feet, her toes sinking into the plush carpet beneath her. Without thinking, she embraced Michael again, melting into the hug that seemed to relieve the constant whirring of her brain.
He stood stiff at first, then placed a hand on her head soothing her hair, then one across her waist.
"Girl, you alright?" He questioned jokingly.
The girl nodded against his collarbone, "I missed you so much, Michael." She spoke.
She felt her friend's arms pulling her in tighter, a familiar warmth overwhelming her that felt safe. Like home.
They stood like that for a while, like time and space were infinite. Like the countdown of those crucially short four days had not entirely begun. Like making up for all the hugs missed in one years time.
"Oh, Reesie Girl," He breathed then, kissing her forehead, "You have no idea how much I've missed you too."
"Where can I crash?"
The pair had spent the last few hours catching up, ordering take-out from a Chinese spot that Michael swore was oh so good. Then watching a horror movie marathon on the couch with all the lights turned off. Theresa wasn't easily frightened, but her nerves got the best of her when the door knob of the apartment jiggled menacingly, and the amber hallway glow made LaToya's figure look like a murderess slasher. Her best friend got a kick out of the fear across her face.
Still, fighting the fatigue of jet lag and angst, and in the confines of the apartment overlooking the lively city, Theresa couldn't be happier about her first official night in the Big Apple.
"Mmm?" Michael hummed, his dark eyelids nearly shut balancing his head in his hands. She felt his legs shift under the blanket they were sharing on the couch, the glow of the end credits of another flick making shadows dance across their faces.
"Oh, you'll be sleeping in my room." Michael yawned, stretching his joints back to life as he stood. "C'mon."
Theresa slugged behind him, the sandman dancing across her own lids as they maneuvered through the narrow hall down to the large room towards the end. "I don't wanna be a bother, Mikey. I can take the couch. It's quite comfy actually."
"Girl please," Michael said, opening his bedroom door, "You think I'mma let my best friend I ain't seen since last summer sleep on our crummy couch? Plus, I already cleaned my room and everything."
Theresa chuckled, stepping into the star's domicile. It was spacious, just like the rest of the apartment, but simple she noticed. A large, king-sized bed with a simple wood bedframe, dark comforters and a sea of the fluffiest pillows she'd ever seen, accompanied by a matching wood dresser and a small desk covered in awards, books and records. A grand window pooled twinkling lights throughout the room, a familiar hum of the city meeting her ears.
On the end of the bed was a towel, and a familiar red stuffed animal that caused a smile to curl on her pink lips.
"You still have this?" Theresa exclaimed, hugging the large teddy bear to her chest. Aged and faded, the large red bear with a now dingy white bow tie swarmed the girl with euphoria.
"Of course I still have it," Michael said somberly.
"I gave this to you when you went on tour right after we met. Do you remember that?"
"I remember," he said with a smile, "You said your mom gave it to you and whenever you felt sad or alone you hugged him. Then you told me whenever I felt sad or scared to give him a squeeze too and I'd feel better. And some nights, it helped."
Theresa looked up at him, noticing his frame towering over her, a softness in his eyes she missed getting lost in. For a moment, she swore that the hum of the city and the incessant pitter-patter of the rain was the drumming of her heart. She sighed, staring back down at the relic. Feeling a weird uncomfortable sensation at the closeness the two of them shared now.
"Yeah." Theresa smiled, placing the teddy bear back down, "I think I'mma shower and hit the hay." she spoke then, looking towards his bathroom.
Michael nodded, "Yeah, I'm beat." He replied, "If you need anything just holler, okay. Goodnight Reesie."
"Night Mikey."
"Oh and hey," she heard him call, his slender silhouette shadowing in the doorframe, "I'm really happy you're here. I can't wait 'til you see what I got planned for your visit." And with that, the door shut. Leaving the girl with the simple song of the city, and the humdrum of her confused heart.
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The next day, Theresa woke up to balloons, flowers, and a card on the apartment table. And a tower of sugary vanilla waffles with whipped cream and a pink nineteen-candle lit in the middle of it.
"Happy Birthday Reesie!" LaToya sang with a smile. Theresa smiled, sitting at the table, blowing out the small candle in her breakfast.
"Thank you 'Toya," the girl smiled, leaning into a hug, "Where's Michael?"
"Oh, he had to go on set for the movie early," LaToya said, sliding into the seat next to her.
Oh yeah, the movie. The Wiz. It was one of the girls' favorite Broadway plays and she was ecstatic when Michael got the role as The Scarecrow. Probably much more excited than he was. They had been filming for a little over a month now. But even with him only being in New York a short while, and her being in school, their schedules had always clashed. More so lately than ever, it seemed.
And even with her visit here, one the duo had been planning for months, was no different.
Theresa stuck the syrupy waffle in her cheeks, hoping its goodness would melt her now resurfacing fright.
Maybe sensing her disappointment, 'Toya spoke up again, "But don't worry, I have a whole heap of plans for us girls. Mani-pedis, lunch and shopping 'til we drop! Then we're meeting Michael on set later."
Theresa gave a smile to LaToya. She hadn't grown up with sisters and brothers. For most of her life, it was just her and her dad after her mom passed. And then she met the Jacksons and it was almost like they were her instant family. On more than one occasion 'Toya had helped the girl with her hair, her makeup, and even given her some old clothes she no longer wore just like any big sister would. She realized then, that maybe it wasn't the longing for her best friend she missed, but maybe just the only big family dynamic she ever had known.
She went to school an hour away from her dad, and though she saw him often, she hadn't made any real friends. Sure, she got along with her roommate and some of her classmates, but none of them felt like what she had and oftentimes felt like she lost. And the one guy she met she thought was good, why, it just made her sick just to even think about him.
Blinking away her thoughts, Theresa turned back to LaToya. Reminding herself to live in this moment, because it wouldn't last forever.
"I'd like that a lot. Maybe you can do my makeup like old times?" Theresa coaxed.
The girl's sienna brown face lit up, a warm smile falling on her face, "Oh my gosh yes! I'll go get my bag right now!"
LaToya wasn't kidding. Theresa's perfectly bubblegum pink-polished feet were aching from shopping all over Fifth Avenue with the girl. But she had to admit she was having fun, more fun than she had in a while. LaToya even told her to get anything she wanted. "A girl only turns nineteen once, after all." Her bubbly voice kept playing in her ears. Theresa probably tried on a hundred dresses in just under a couple hours.
After a lunch at one of the best Italian Bistro's the girl's ever had, her and LaToya sat in the back of a private car as they drove on set of The Wiz.
Theresa eyes boggled as she scanned over the movie set, she'd never been on a real set before. The two girls walked through a maze of buildings, lights, people running to and fro frantically until landing at an open room full of glimmery, luxurious costumes.
A wide grin spread on the girl's brown face as she saw her best friend– in full costume head to toe as the Scarecrow. His makeup wasn't done, and he was squinting down at the script in his hands.
He glanced up just for a moment, a wide grin spreading on his dark brown face, sending a flurry of butterflies in the girls belly as she walked to him.
"Reesie girl," He smiled, standing from his chair.
"Look at you, this is so cool," Theresa beamed, her eyes drinking him in, "I still can't believe you're in a movie based on my favorite plays."
"You look like a real bird brain now," LaToya laughed, causing him to roll his eyes.
Clasping his hand around Theresa's Michael said then, "C'mon girl, let me give you a quick tour."
LaToya waved the two off, saying she'd be by the car as Michael dragged Theresa behind him as he showed her around the set, her heart swelling in her chest as she sheepishly said hello to producers, makeup artists, costume designers and choreographers.
"If you wasn't leavin' in a few days I'd see if you could be one of our extra backup dancers, some of these folk got two left feet," Michael teased causing the girl to snort, "It could be like old times, how we used to dance all the time."
That caused the same wave of turmoil to wash over the girl, remembering how things once were, before the terrible distance that seemed more and more evident. She swallowed, squeezing the man's clammy hand between hers, letting its warmth radiate through her. Stay in the moment, she reminded herself.
"Who is this pretty girl you showing off Mike," A voice called. Theresa felt her voice get caught as she watched Diana Ross head towards them.
Sure she had met Diana a plethora of times, but it was always so exciting being in the presence of superstars, especially one she idolized her entire life.
"Hi Miss Ross, it's me Theresa Evans," the girl stammered, "It's been a while since you last saw me."
Diana, dressed in her youthful Dorothy costume and makeup, gave a wide grin to her, "Little Reesie from Encino? My God girl, you are a hot mama now! No wonder Michael has been talking about you non-stop." The superstar gushed wrapping her arms around Theresa in a tight embrace.
"She's exaggerating" Michael stammered gingerly.
"Oh just barely. He's been looking forward to spending your birthday with him for weeks now," Diana teased, pulling away from Theresa, cupping her round pecan-colored face in her palms,
"Oh is that right?" Theresa teased, giving Michael a cheeky grin, watching him shift on his feet.
Diana nodded, saying then in a hush, "And trust me, you are going to LOVE 54, Mike practically dances there every night."
Suddenly, the girl's heart rate quickened, a silly grin spreading across her face as her excited hickory eyes grew to the size of saucers.
"54? Like STUDIO 54?" Theresa asked, wiggling out of Diana's grasp and staring at Michael's now bemused and irritated expression, nearly bouncing on her toes.
"So much for keeping the surprise, Diana," Michael faltered, rolling his eyes.
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"Girl hurry up, we don't have all night!"
Theresa, spritzing her neck with her perfume as she sauntered down the hallway said, "Hold your horses, it is still my day." She fussed, finally appearing in the living space, "But I am ready now."
Michael, who was turned to the window gazing at the halo of the city nightlife, turned to his best friend, Theresa watching his dark doe eyes drink her in.
She was never one to be flashy, but she decided on a simple shimmery skinny strap dark dress with a slit that exposed her brown thighs and hugged her soft curves and full bust. Her long dark hair, curly, feathered and cascading her round face. She even touched up her makeup just a tad to cover her blemishes on her dark brown face a deep ruby lipstick on her plump lips. It had been a while since she got dolled up, it made her feel quite silly actually.
But the way her best friend was looking at her made her feel nervous. And a warm sensation like her very first night here returned. She ignored the gnawing in her stomach as she forced a smile.
"I don't look too bad do I?" she asked sheepishly.
"Of course not," He replied quickly, "You look..." he trailed, clearing his throat, "You look really beautiful, Reesie."
A real grin spread on her face then, watching the man, dressed in a simple pair of dark slacks and a cream shirt covered by a dark brown jacket, came toward her. Something of a devilish grin on his own lips.
"What you got up your sleeve?" Theresa asked cocking a brow, tilting her head to his hidden hands, "What's behind your back? What are you hiding?"
"Me hiding something? I don't know what you're talking about." Michael teased, causing the girl to reach for whatever he was keeping away from her. He laughed and laughed as she reached and reached, but her arms were much too short and he was just too fast.
"Michael!" the girl huffed finally, "C'mon stop kiddin' around."
"Okay, okay," he gulped between chuckles, "For you, birthday girl."
It was a rectangular velvet box with a big red bow. Squealing, Theresa snatched it from his large hands, quickly opening it. Maybe it was her mascara or her new perfume, but her eyes began to sting and well with tears, staring at the simple– yet elegant– gold bracelet with five charms. A teddy bear, a pair of roller skates, a heart with a small diamond, and then– the last two charms, a gold T and an M.
"Just something small to always remind you of us," He spoke somberly, "The fun we've had, how much you mean to me and helped me. And no matter where we are Reesie Girl, you're always in my heart."
Lip quivering, Theresa stared at the relic, overwhelmed suddenly with memories of the past, their child-life laughter, foot races, pulling silly hijinks against his siblings, dancing together anytime they heard a tune, and all their deep, dark secrets. Michael was one of the only people in her life she ever trusted like this. Even with the ups and downs of his career, the distance, and her uncertainty. It was nice to know that no matter what, they always had each other.
Looking at the gold bracelet, blinking between the warm tears that streaked her cheeks, she knew now, despite her angst, that maybe that would never change.
"You weren't supposed to cry," He said softly, feeling his fingers gently wipe away the tears that stained her flushed cheeks.
"I'm okay, I promise," Reesie assured, "I'm just speechless, Michael."
He beamed, "Lemme help you put it on," He said then, quickly fumbling to put the bracelet on for her.
A shaky breath fell from her then, a heart-swelling feeling overflowing through her veins like lava. A sensation she'd been lying to herself for as long as she could ever know. Staring at the relic on her brown wrist and into his large doe eyes, she couldn't deny the feeling any longer. No matter how hard she tried.
She wrapped her arms around him, burying her head into his chest, "This means more than you'll ever know, Michael." she spoke, "Thank you so much."
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"Are you having a good time?"
The two were sitting at the end of a bar now, dewy from sweat and gasping for air in their lungs after lighting fire to the dancefloor for over an hour.
"Are you kidding?" Theresa began, "This is the best night of my life."
Michael laughed, shrugging out of his jacket, "You know you the only one who's ever been able to keep up with me, girl? You still got moves."
"I was just following your lead," Theresa smiled.
She was a frazzled mess of giggles, her hair frizzy and feet screaming for help out of her shoes. But Theresa was having the time of her life.
Studio 54 was just as glamorous as Michael had said in his letters and phone calls. The celestial lights and hazy glow seemed to add a sparkling aura of the large space. Not to mention the endless sea of faces (she had bumped into the Donna Summer while doing a twirl– she even said she had great moves), and not to mention the wall-to-wall music that pulsed through her veins like a heartbeat. It was hard to fight the syncopated rhythm that drummed against her ribcage. Michael, of course, was a maestro on the dancefloor, and the two had a groove that no one could ignore.
"You thirsty?" Michael asked as the girl fanned her face with her manicured hand. Theresa nodded, waving her hand to the bartender who gave her a warm smile.
"Can I get a ginger ale please," Michael asked him.
"And for you, pretty lady?" the bartender spoke over the booming disco.
"I'll have an old-fashioned, please," Theresa gave him a smile. The bartender winked at her, assuring them their drinks would be right up.
She turned back to Michael, who was giving her a strange look, "Since when do you drink?" he asked.
Theresa shrugged, "Not often. But it's my birthday, I want to let loose a little."
Michael knitted his brows together, like he wanted to respond, but didn't as the two of them soaked in the nightlife, watching congested bodies bump and dance to the music. The girls eyes wandered up near the higher level of the club.
"What's up there?" Theresa asked, swiveling in her bar stool just as the drinks were placed in front of them.
Michael, following the girl's eyes, said, "Oh girl, nothing but some scandalous stuff." His voice oozed, "People go up there to get high sometimes, or do other things."
Theresa giggled, taking a sip of her drink, the strong liquor warming her up as she sipped, "So it is true what they say about that, huh?" She had heard all about Rubber Room, the drugs and wild sex people would partake in in the club. Michael didn't tell her about that too much, but being from a family of stars herself, she knew better than anyone what a lot that entails, especially on wild nights in the city.
Michael made a hum with his mouth, causing Theresa to giggle, "I don't know how you do it. As long as I've known you, your life has always been so full."
"Well I tell you all the time not everything is what it seems," He spoke.
"I know," Theresa replied, "Just, sometimes things with me seem so simple or boring. Like we're at Studio 54! You're about to be in a new movie, you're working on new music, about to perform in more concerts. Things are moving so fast for you Mikey. Too fast."
Theresa gulped the rest of her drink, hoping to cease fire to the turmoil that threatened to bubble up inside her yet again, her same fear now swimming in the back of her mind. She took intent attention to the bubbles in her glass, ignoring the heated gaze she felt on her neck from Michael staring.
"Is that a bad thing?" she heard him speak somberly.
Quickly turning to him, she shook her head, "Oh of course not. I'm so happy for you, Mikey. Proud of you," she trailed, "But... if I can be honest. It does make me just a little sad."
She watched as his eyes knitted together, parting his lips to respond, but she quickly perked up to the funky rhythm that met her ears
"Oh I love this song, this is your song." Theresa forced a grin as the popular tune Different Kind of Lady pumped through the speakers, "C'mon Mikey dance with me."
"But Reesie–"
But before letting him utter another word, and sparing herself from any more embarrassment, she pulled him from the stool and soon had his feet moving. His warm hand held her just above her waist as they stepped in sync to the beat, practically close enough to feel each others hearts pounding, breath hitching as they grooved to the beat. The neon, luminous glow of the night reflected on their dark skin, bright wide grins on both of their plump lips as the rhythm swept through them.
This is all Theresa wanted to remember in this moment, his breathtaking smile, the funk, the booming tempo against her skin, and the magic of the night on her birthday. She wanted to soak in this, instead of a truth that had been haunting her for far too long.
That she was utterly, cripplingly, and despairingly in love with her very best friend; a superstar sky rocketing into a different stratosphere where she felt that she would be left forever haunted with this wicked curse.
***
Part one of my friends-to-lovers fluff with my cute yet crippling awkward Reesie, haha. Fun fact, I wrote this at the beginning of the year and never did anything with it and finished this part today!
Please vote, like and comment (feedback is important!)
What do you guys think will happen next? Will Theresa confess her feelings? Do you think Michael feels the same? What would you like to see happen?
Thanks for all the readers so far. Part 2 coming soon-ish.