Time is such an interesting thing. It passes by so slow, yet so fast at the same time. And though it seems like you’ve known a person for your entire life, you come to realize you’ve only been acquainted with them for a few weeks.
I spent New Year’s (though that’s what they failed to call the occasion because of their devout Jehovah-Witness beliefs) with Michael and his rather large family, which was a little under a month after we had met. But that night was unforgettable. I had met his mother and father for the first time.
*FLASHBACK*
Knock-knock-knock.
Crap! Michael was here already. I had just slipped into my new red satin dress and white pumps.
Quickly, I applied one more layer of red lipstick, fluffed my dirty-blonde hair, and ran to the door. I cleared my throat and practiced my cute-face then opened the door.
“Hey, sweetheart! My, is this for me?” He looked me up and down then leaned in to peck my cheek.
“You don’t look half bad, yourself,” I winked. He really didn’t, though his face was covered and so were his eyes. There were a lot of people out and about tonight, and he didn’t want to stir up a fuss. He took my hand and I stepped out the door. I fumbled around for my keys and locked it behind me. I was probably the only person in all of Encino who did this.
Michael laughed. “Stop being nice. You ready?”
“Yep, let’s roll.”
We began the walk to the next street over.
“Remember. This isn’t a New Year’s party.” He winked. “Just a little get-together-slash-meet-the-family sort of thing that happens to be on this particular day.”
“Gotcha. I won’t use the phrase ‘New Year’s’.”
“That’s my girl.”
“Michael?”
“Mmm?”
“I—I’m kind of…nervous. Like, about meeting your family. What if they don’t like me?”
Michael tilted his head back to laugh rather loudly.
“What’s not to like?!”
“Well, I’m not exactly the social type, ya know? It’ll be…hard.”
“Not with my family, Evonne. We meet no strangers, especially not my mother. I think you guys will get along wonderfully, and I know my brothers will love you.”
“Well, whatever you say.”
We arrived at his beautiful home, which I’d visited multiple times in the last half-month but could never fully get over its elegance. I had a serious case of butterflies, and I guess it showed in my whiter-than-usual complexion.
“Hey,” Michael grabbed my arm and looked me in the eyes, “it’s oh-kay. Just relax.” He smiled.
“I’ll do my very best,” I sighed.
He opened the door and pushed slightly on the small of my back, urging me in.
Barely after I stepped in, a short woman embraced me in a warm hug.
“Hi, honey! How are you? Oh, we’ve heard so much about you. Sorry we hadn’t been here when you were around, Joe insisted we leave the kids here to fin for themselves for a while. We took a vacation to Honolulu in Hawaii, and oh! It was just beautiful. We hadn’t been out of the house in—“
“Mother…” Michael cut Katherine off. She released me from her bear-hug and stepped away. I could now get a good look at her. She was beautiful and her son favored her much. I gave her a warm smile.
“Oh, honey. I’m sorry. Michael’s just told us so much about you over the telephone; I couldn’t wait to meet you. I told Joseph I was gonna stand right here by the door and wait, I was so excited.”
I laughed. She was adorable. “Mrs. Jackson, it’s lovely to meet you too. Michael talks so highly of you!”
“Aw. That’s my baby,” She said standing up on her toes to kiss Michael on the cheek. He embarrassed easily.
“Well let’s not just stand here by the door! Honey, take those shoes off and stay a while! They must be 5 inches high. Come on,” Katherine said as we followed her to the living room (or one of the living rooms).
“Joseph, we have company!” She called out. We rounded the corner to see a man lazing on the long couch, just in front of the tv. Michael’s father, whom I was nervous about meeting because of everything I’d heard.
“Well, look what we have here,” He said standing up to shake my hand.
“Evelyn?”
“Oh, ha, no, it’s Evonne actually,” I smiled nervously, hoping he wouldn’t sense my shakiness.
“Ahh, that’s right.” He said sitting back down.
Well, alright, that was brief.
Michael’s siblings were so fun and they had warm welcomes ready for me. Jackie and Jermaine apologized for that horrible first-impression they’d made on me. I told them it was fine and that if they ever did it again, I’d have something big planned for them.
I met Michael’s sisters, whom I was instantly jealous of. Rebbie wasn’t able to attend, Katherine said, but LaToya and Janet were present. They were both so beautiful, I instantly felt unworthy to be in their presence. Janet was friendlier than LaToya, and I could tell we were going to get along wonderfully.
The hours flew by with fun as we all played board games, ate junk food, watched old movies, listened to music, and just chatted.
But the real fun happened when Katherine came to the table, suddenly holding a thick photo album over her head, saying “Baby-picture time!”
“MOM, NO.” Screamed Michael, glancing back at me with a quite terrified look. The others didn’t seem to mind too much.
“Oh hush, baby.” She said, taking her seat next to me and plopping the heavy book down. We all scooted in closer, except for Michael who tried to excuse himself to the bathroom but was instantly scolded by his mother.
“And here’s Michael just before bath time!” Katherine pointed to a picture of her 3-year old son, butt-naked, with one leg in the tub and one out. We all started laughing.
“ANYONE WANT CAKE? I WANT SOME CAKE,” Michael blurted out, standing up quickly out of embarrassment.
“Oh and here’s one during bath time!” Janet teased. We began giggling again.
“You’re so precious,” I said, oozing over his baby cuteness.
No camera would’ve captured the apple-redness of his face and done it justice. He was so red. I almost felt a little guilty. I couldn’t help it! He was so adorable.
“Yeah, alright, I’m getting cake,” Michael left before his mother could hold him down again.
We all giggled as we watched him scramble out of the room.
“You gonna go comfort your boyfriend?” Janet whispered, playfully punching my arm.
“I suppose,” I said, rising.
“I gotta go calm the applehead. We’ll be right back, you guys. Carry on,” I winked, and then made my way into the kitchen.
Michael stood facing the counter, stuffing his face with chocolate cake and ice cream. I snuck up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist.
“Hey, Applehead,” I giggled. That was going to be my new pet-name for him.
“Applehead, huh?” He mumbled, his mouth full.
“Your face was too red in there,” I laughed again.
“Well, I felt…exposed!” He said, turning around in my arms.
“You were, what, three?”
“SO?”
“So…it was adorable!”
Michael snorted then resumed eating his cake.
I leaned myself up against the counter beside him and looked at my watch.
“It’s ten minutes till midnight,” I said.
Michael stopped chewing then looked up at me.
“You wanna go get some air?” He mumbled, once again, with his cheeks stuffed.
I laughed. “Let’s go.”
We went up the stairs, down a long hallway, and out onto a beautiful balcony. Fireworks lit up the sky, a bit early I thought, though they were breath taking.
We looked out over the backyard and over the neighborhood. Music was blaring loudly and people were partying hard. The neighborhood was absolutely alive with the New Year’s spirit.
I leaned up against the railing and drew Michael in for a tight hug.
“Thank you for making me come. I’m kinda glad I did. Your family is so amazing,” I said.
He gave me a squeeze. “I told you they’d like you.”
I pulled away for a moment and glanced at my watch. 11:57PM.
“Um, would it be considered ‘celebrating’ New Year’s if we, uh…” I looked down.
“If weeee… Entered the New Year with a kiss? Evonne, I’m not that uptight.”
A warm breeze blew in from the west. I pulled him close to me again.
“Well… Then what are we waiting for?”
He smiled and leaned his head down to touch mine. His hands wrapped around my waist and he pulled me closer to him.
I closed my eyes and right as I thought our lips were about to meet, he jerked his head away.
His eyes fixed on the tree that stood no more than 15 feet away from us, the top of it level to the balcony.
“Did you hear that?” He whispered, still squinting at the tree.
“Hear wha—“
“Shhh!” He hushed me.
A huge firework lit up the sky and I tried to use its light to see whatever Michael thought was hidden in the branches. I was beginning to get a little frightened as I watched him stare at the tree, his eyebrows pinched together in a suspicious way.
“Michael, I’m sure it’s nothing,” I whispered. He reluctantly tore his glare away and looked back down at me. I looked at my watch. 11:59.
“I don’t know… For a second I thought—“
Quickly, before the clock could strike midnight, I grabbed the back of his head, put my other hand on his neck, and kissed him hard and firm.
There was no time to be wasted.
Our lips wrestled as our heads switched directions, back and forth. He took my bottom lip in his mouth and gently bit it as his hands reached for the back of my head and played with my thick hair.
I opened my eyes, longing to see Michael’s expression as our passion intensified, when my peripheral vision caught something in the tree just off to the right.
*FLASH*
Michael fiercely ripped away from me.
“HEY!” We screamed.
A man with a giant, bulky camera sat on the branch of the tree that extended closest to the balcony. He looked about 30 years old.
“This one’s gonna bring in the bucks,” He said, and laughed a sleazy little laugh. “And so is this one!” He snapped another photo of us. “Say cheese!” He snapped another, and kept snapping.
By this point, I was about blind from the flash.
“Come on, get inside,” Michael huffed, grabbing me roughly by the waist and pushing me in.
“Hey now, don’t be like tha—“ He slid the doors shut before the man could finish.
We now stood in the hallway, facing each other. I leaned up against the wall.
“What have I done,” He whispered, looking at me.
“So the paparazzi got to us. Big deal,” I shrugged it off. It wasn’t the end of the world… Was it?
“Do you have any idea..how NASTY..and misleading..the tabloids are?” He had a duh-tone in his voice.
And now that he’d mentioned it, I really didn’t. I’d never read a tabloid in my life. I didn’t even look at them when standing in line at the grocery store.
“They are going to attach a nasty lie to those pictures. It’s going to be disrespectful to both me and you. They have no rules, Evonne. Not to mention, your normal life is over.”
“What…?”
“You’ve been avoiding fame ever since your career started, but now you have no choice. We are an item. And now they know.”
“You didn’t want anyone to know? Are you ashamed..?” I became a little defensive. Why was this a bad thing?
He sighed heavily. “Gosh! NO! That’s not what I meant! I would never be ashamed of you. It’s like this. I wanted to keep this secret for your sake. Evonne, you have no idea how nasty they are. They will twist and turn every story into a huge, disgusting lie. It hurts,” he stepped closer to me, “and I would never wish those lies to be told upon anyone else. It’s not pleasant.”
“I don’t care what they say. And if being with you costs me my privacy, then, well, I’m just fine with that.”
“Are you fine with never being able to go to the grocery store by yourself ever again? Never being able to take a stroll outside without being mobbed?! NEVER BEING ABLE TO—“
“You’re worth it.” I looked him deep in his chocolaty eyes.
He meant the world to me.
That was a bittersweet night for the both of us.
I remember walking into the main office of The Sun tabloid-printing company the very next day. I had told Michael what I was going to do. And as much as he despised the idea, he lent me a disguise to wear. I had stuck my nose up to the offer, but he insisted, unless I wanted to be eaten ravenously like a t-bone steak in front of a pack of hungry dogs. For all we knew, they could’ve already printed the pictures.
*FLASHBACK*
Downtown Los Angeles sure was a nasty place for traffic. I had never been in the midst of the hussle-and-bussle until now. Usually when I had an errand to run, I played it safe and stayed on the outskirts of town. I hated being in the middle of excitement.
As I finally began approaching my destination, butterflies tickled my stomach—and not the good kind. I was nervous about what I was going to do. I had never confronted anyone in my life. But I had to get that picture out of their evil, wicked hands. Michael had made me understand last night. I didn’t want the public to know yet; I was hardly ready.
I parked the car, put the quarter in the meter, cleared my throat, and marched up the steps.
You can do this, Evonne. You can do this! Hand it to ‘em on a nice, shiny, assertive platter.
I burst through front doors. It’s like the whole place froze as I made my presence known. Everyone in the room paused what they were doing to look up at me with surprised expressions.
I adjusted my aviators and brushed off my shoulders in a classy fashion, then strutted on up to the desk. There, I came face to face with the annoying sleaze-bag who had snapped photos of me and Michael last night; His nametag said “Editor: James Fitz”.
Just the man I want to see.
He whistled at me and looked me over as I came to stand directly in front of him. He fidgeted in his chair and cleared his throat. “Well, HELLO there.” Mr. Fitz winked. “How may I help this fine young lady?”
Ew. He’s hitting on me.
I put on my best New Jersey accent. “Look. I mean business, darlin’.” I tried to sound as demanding as possible.
He leaned away from me a little and humbled himself up. “Yes, ma’am. Anything you’d like, ma’am.”
“That’s a good doll. Now,” I cleared my throat and put my fists on the counter, “I’m here on behalf of my client Michael Jackson and I— “ He cut me off. “Look, tootz,” He sprayed spit all over my face with his enunciation of the word “tootz”, “you’re not getting those pictures outta my possession. Do you realize how much green those lil babies are gonna get us? Yeah, uh, you’re outta your pretty little mind if you think we’re just gonna hand ‘em over the counter here.”
I leaned ever so close to him. So close I made sure he could feel the tension rolling off of me. “Don’t cause me to make a scene,” I whispered devilishly. His eyes widened a bit. “Mr. Fitz, are you aware that you were trespassing on private property last night?” “Well, I, uh—“ He stuttered. “Are you also aware that I’m fully equipped and ready to file a lawsuit against you, that is, if you fail to comply and hand the pictures over?”
Mr. Fitz tried to fidget away from me. His eyes scanned around and he smiled nervously at someone behind me. I could feel the room watching us now. Good.
“Well, I’m, uh, I’m sure we can negotiate something, ma’am.” I took my weight off the counter and stood straight up. “Atta boy.”
“Just wait here, let me go fetch ‘em,” He scurried off.
I noticed everyone was still looking at me.
“Well what’re you lookin’ at? Get back ta work!” I scolded in my New Jersey accent. Why not play it up a bit?
I began to understand why Michael loved disguises so much.
Mr. Fitz was back in a flash with the photos. “Here you are, ma’am. I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience,” He said, placing them in a stack on the table.
I placed my hands on the counter and took a close look at the first 5” by 11”. We looked good; like we naturally belonged together. It was actually an excellent shot despite our faces being filled with surprise and horror. I flipped to the next one: We were in the middle of a passionate kiss. A tickle went through my stomach as I remembered the way that had felt.
“Ayyyy, wait a minute… Lemme see that!” Mr. Fitz snatched the picture from right under my hands.
“What’s the big idea?” I snapped.
I watched his face as he stared intently at the photo, then at my hands, then back at the photo, and then at my face.
A twinge of horror filled my gut as I realized my cover was blown.
He twisted his face into one overly-sarcastic expression. “Gee,” he began “ya know who this reminds me of?” He placed the photo back on the counter. I hadn’t realized it but, in the picture my right hand was on Michael’s face. On my right hand is a medium-sized tattoo of a star, just between my thumb and index finger, accompanied by a trail of smaller stars.
Mr. Fitz poked my little tattoo and looked up at me smugly, his eyebrows rose. I quickly shoved my hand into my pocket.
I’M SUCH A BLOODY IDIOT!!
But maybe there was still hope…
“Well, I’d love to hear it but I’ve got to go. So I’ll just take these and be off.” I gripped the pictures and pulled, as Mr. Fitz pulled back. “I don’t think so, Ms. Evonne Summers!!” He shouted my name. Before I knew it, he grabbed my wig and glasses right off my head. “HEY!! YOU CAN’T DO THAT! IT’S CHEATING!” I yelled in desperation. “If you wanna win, you gotta play nasty! NOW GET OUT,” He yelled, pointing at the door.
Now everyone was staring twice as hard. And even a few people bothered to ask me for an autographed book, which I accepted before making my way out the door.
I pushed my way out, slouching due to my low state of mind.
I had failed bitterly. And now that he knew I lied, he was probably going to make up a story so vulgar, so mind-twistingly sick and disgusting, that I’d wish I’d never been born.
It totally would’ve worked, too, had it not been for that one stupid mark on my hand. I so had him going.
That day was good for me though. I added a new and much-needed characteristic to my personality: assertiveness. And it also taught me to always be aware of small details… (Stupid tattoo.)
And yes—the pictures were printed. The tabloids were out the very next day, in fact. I went to the grocery store in disguise and while I was in line, I spotted one. I picked it up in red-hot anger as soon as I saw the headline which read “Michael’s New ‘Girlfriend’” right across the picture of us lip-locking. The quotes around girlfriend were definitely intended to spark interest, as they did mine. I turned to the article to read about how apparently I was a call-girl whom Michael had bought for his personal “entertainment” for the night. And let’s not forget how apparently after Michael had gotten what he wanted from me, he’d beaten me. To the side of the article, they had printed the picture of us looking horridly at the camera. My right arm was wrapped around Michael’s neck, and there on my bicep was a big bruise, still fresh on my arm from when I had literally ran into him weeks prior.
They were accusing Michael of being a dirty pimp, and me of being a nasty whore. That no-doubt looked good on our careers.
But I soon learned I had to just get used to it.
From that day on, it was no longer only Michael as the victim of wicked sensationalism– I was in the snake pit with him.
He had warned me, of course, and I’d said I didn’t care (which I didn’t, to an extent).
The stories came ever so frequently, and they were the most ridiculous lies.
I remembered reading one about how I was a trans-woman and how Michael had met me when I was a man, but convinced me to change in order to keep his record clean.
There were worse ones, but I’d rather not discuss them…