Since Michael released his Bad album, leather jackets became a signature feature in his style. For you, it was something that drove you crazy. The mixture of his leather jacket, long hair, and boots summoned your intense butterflies.
When Michael was out at the studio, you decided to go for a shopping trip. It was Friday and you'd just cashed your check, so you were ready to go. Because of the sunny weather, you decided to pull your long hair up into a ponytail. Once you pulled on your jeans and fitted sweater, you were on your way.
The sun beamed over the Southern California scenery. Sidewalks buzzed with determined tourists running errands. Palm trees towered as a street with small tourist shops quickly escalated into a high end mall. You smiled when a huge poster of Michael gleamed in a window. By now, you were used to seeing him everywhere, but it still made you smile.
You parked your car and let your tennis shoes hit the pavement. With your purse over your shoulder, you glanced around at other visitors. Many women eagerly rushed into the mall. A smile crept on your face and you skipped through the glass doors.
~~~~
At first, no stores caught your eye. That quickly changed when you saw a mannequin in the window of a clothing store. On the plastic body was a black, studded leather jacket. It had a striking resemblance to Michael's jacket on the cover of his album.
Your eyes widened as you observed the entire outfit. The jeans were plain black, but they looked amazing with the outfit. To finish it off, a pair of black leather boots. The mannequin was petite like you, so with your face reflecting off the glass, your head peeked right over the headless body. It was almost as if the outfit was meant for you.
Once you walked in the store, you noticed that most of their clothing was not your style. With all the black spiked boots and fishnet tights, your neon sweater stood out.
An employee looked up as you entered. She had spiky hair, dark makeup, and a nose ring. Harsh appearances like that used to scare you, but the makeup on Michael's dancers for his tour solved that. The young girl smiled, making her dimples appear.
"Welcome! Can I help you find something?"
"That outfit on the mannequin —in the window right there—do you have that in an extra small?" You asked the employee.
"The entire thing?" She asked.
"Oh, and a size three in the boots."
"Sure! Let me look!"
You thanked her as she went to search.
A few minutes later, she came back with a stack of black clothes in her arms.
"Would you like to try these on?" She asked.
"Yes, please!"
"Perfect. Let me show you to our dressing room."
You quickly got settled and slipped on the entire thing. The resemblance to Michael was undeniable.
"I can't wait to show him!" You whispered.
"Everything alright?" The employee asked through the door.
You stepped out to let her see.
"You have the perfect body for that!" She squealed.
"Thanks," you blushed.
She wasn't wrong. The jacket and jeans clung to your slim body. You weren't extremely curvy, but you weren't a pencil either. Michael loved your shape. Your lack of curves kept you at a light weight. That allowed him to still carry you without any trouble. Since Michael couldn't lift many people over age thirteen for too long, this was a big deal to him. Because you two weren't drastically different in shape, he didn't look like the complete stick that he was next to you.
"I don't mean to pry, but are you getting this outfit for something special? Don't get me wrong, you look so hot in it. I mean, it just seems to contrast with your style."
You laughed.
"No, no. You're fine! Yeah, I'm not one to dress this way. It just reminds me of . . . my boyfriend. He has an outfit like this."
"Oooh, does he ride a motorcycle?" She smiled.
"Speed Demon" popped in your mind.
"Not really," You shrugged.
"Oh, well he must be pretty tough to wear such a sharp outfit."
"Tough?"
"Oh yeah! That's the stuff the bad boys wear."
"Oh, he's bad," you said without thinking.
You quickly stopped and mentally slapped yourself. It was such an obvious reference, but the girl remained clueless.
"Oh, fun," she smirked, "A lot of the time, those ones really know how to make you feel, too. You know, the ones that are really, really bad?"
"Oh, I see," you looked around, growing anxious.
"Yeah, girl. I used to date a guy like that. We started out as just good friends. Then, he told me he wanted us to be more. Like I was another part of him. Gosh, I remember that. And the way he made me feel. That was fun."
You shifted from foot to foot, listening politely.
Her face grew sour.
"Then, this chick named Diana came between us. After that, I told him to leave me alone—,"
"Uh, can I purchase these?" You interrupted gently, gesturing to your outfit.
"Oh, of course! You go on and change. I'll be at the register!" She quickly beamed and walked away.
Once in the dressing room, you sighed and wiped imaginary sweat from your forehead.
~~~~
"Y/N? Baby, I'm home!" Michael yelled.
He never knew if you could hear him or not. His property was so large that there was always a chance that you were half a mile away somewhere.
When you skipped down the staircase, his head was down as he put down his belongings. The click of your boots on the staircase caused him to look up. His jaw immediately dropped.
"Hello, my love," you smiled.
With your new outfit, you wore earrings that had tiny crosses on them. Your hair was down and wild. The curls hung loosely down your back. A choker finished it off.
"Y/N," he breathed.
"That's my name," you smiled.
He closed the distance between the two of you and grabbed your waist.
"You are so beautiful."
You blushed.
"We should've put you on the cover instead of me!"
"Oh, shush. You look fine in that picture. I mean, fine! That's the whole reason I got this. Obviously I wouldn't look as good as you, but you know," you shrugged.
It was his turn to blush.
"You have to wear your outfit with me," You smiled.
He smiled at the floor and shook his head.
"You know I will."
"So, you like it?"
He looked you up and down.
"Uh huh," he finally replied.
You beamed.
"Come here," he smiled and pulled you closer.
He kissed you on the lips. His tongue quickly tried to enter your mouth. You smiled and allowed him in. Your mouths moved in synch and he rubbed his thumbs on your hips.
"You're the only one that can pull off being cute and sexy at the same time," he whispered.
"Um, incorrect. You do that everyday."
"I love you . . . so much," he mumbled into the kiss.
"I love you more."
"I love you most."
"I love you most of all! How many times are y'all gonna do that?" Bill's voice boomed as he entered the house.
You jumped in surprise and nearly lost your balance. Your arms automatically wrapped around Michael's shoulders for balance. Michael tightened his arms around your waist, holding you up.
As Bill turned around and looked up, his eyes widened.
"Oh . . . . . okay," he said and walked back out.