Michael
Thursday December 25th, 1986 – Encino, California
"What are you hiding from me?" she asks seriously. Too afraid to respond, I decide to grab my plate of food and go to the dining room to eat.
I still haven't told Yonela about what happened between me and Brooke. That kiss has brought me nothing but shame and guilt ever since I got back. The only way to get it off my back is to tell her, but I can't. She's been through enough in her life. I don't want her to know about it, even if it was just a little kiss.
God, what have I done?
"You're hiding something... What are you hiding from me?"
Her words repeat in my head, over and over like a broken record. They haunt me so bad, I can't even finish my breakfast. Quite a few people at the table have noticed that I'm a bit off – or a lot off – so to avoid any awkwardness I grab any empty plates and stand up to put them in the dishwasher.
I can't tell her. She'll hate me.
"You haven't answered my question," her soft yet firm voice makes me jump a little bit.
"You're done eating already?"
"Don't change the subject," she starts, annoyance and worry both evident in her voice. "Talk to me, Jackson. What's bothering you?"
Breathe, Michael.
"I don't know," I start a half-lie. "I guess I just had a rough couple weeks. There's still so much to do, I feel I need to be in studio."
"Frank said you need the break, though," she says, nearing me. "Quincy agreed as well, so there's no need to stress."
"I can't help it, Miya. It feels like I've fallen so far behind---"
"You're doing just fine," she cuts me off, cupping my jaw with her hand. "I know you feel pressured because of Thriller. It's very understandable, but you deserve to rest. Enjoy this break while you can, and go back to studio refreshed and ready."
"You sound just like my mother, you know?" I shake my head, making her giggle.
"Maybe it's because I really care about you."
"I don't deserve you, Miya."
"Don't," she hushes me, placing a finger on my mouth. "Don't say that. It's not true."
"But Miya, I---"
"Shh..." her arms open up and take me in a warm embrace. I hug her back, burying my head in her shoulder and taking in her gorgeous vanilla scented perfume. We break away after a moment, and instantly lock gazes.
"Are you sure you're okay?" she asks, her hands still holding onto my neck. I give a few nods before a wave of guilt comes over me. I'm still lying to her, even though I don't say anything.
Don't ruin it, Michael.
A small smile spreads across my face before I speak.
"Wanna see me play basketball?" I ask randomly, making her smile as well.
"You don't think it's too cold outside?"
"Nah, we'll be warm if we're running around the court."
"Alright, then," she whispers. "Just as long as you don't cry when your brothers beat you, okay?"
I let out a loud laugh before wrapping my arm around Yonela's shoulder and leading her out to the half-court.
* * *
Yonela
Thursday December 25th, 1986 – Encino, California
It's sunset outside, and everyone in the house is seated around the table for Christmas dinner. I'm talking the works – mashed potatoes, kale and spinach, butternut squash, pasta salad, bean salad, garlic rolls and a whole roast turkey. What a meal.
"Yonela," Katherine speaks some distance down the table. "Would you like to say grace, dear?"
I give a polite nod. "May we all join hands, please?"
The entire table follows my request, Michael and Rebbie being the first to take either of my hands. We all bow our heads before I bless our food.
"Heavenly Father, God of Grace and God of Peace, we come before You to thank You for Christmas time, for family and for Your endless and everlasting love. Jehovah, we ask that You bless the meal we are about to receive, and also bless the souls of those who are hungry tonight. Please be with us, Lord. Continue to protect us as Your Will has ordered, and as Your Word has commanded. Amen."
"Amen!" the room echoes before we all dig into dinner.
"That was beautiful," Michael whispers into my ear, making me blush before I start on my plate.
Joseph carves the turkey while everyone passes food to everyone. The table settles once all the dishes have made their rounds and all the plates are full. We all engage in one conversation while eating, and before we know it it's time for dessert. I stand up to go help Katherine in the kitchen, and we soon carry out four full trays of hot and sticky chocolate pudding.
"So," Marlon starts as he digs in. "When do we get to hear you sing again, Yonela?"
"You can sing?" Jackie and Tito ask while LaToya and Rebbie exchange looks of surprise. In the corner of my eye, I notice Joseph sitting up in his chair.
Here we go again...
"Well, I wouldn't call it singing..."
"Liar!" Randy nearly shouts. "You're good and you know it. We all heard you."
"But still, I---"
"Come on, girl," Janet cuts me off, beaming. "We love your voice, and we love your songs. You gotta do a number for us after dessert."
Sighing from loss of energy, I turn to Michael who is too shy to look me in the eye right now. At that, I turn to Katherine nervously. She simply raises her eyebrows, smiling cheekily with her hands up in surrender.
I'm defeated.
"Okay, okay," I give in, shrugging helplessly. My response if followed by roars of celebration, and in no time at all we've finished dessert. It's the guys' turn to clear and clean up, so they collect the dishes and pop them in the dishwasher while all the ladies and children grab seats and gather in the living room.
"Why not do a piano number tonight?" Jermaine suggests. Everyone agrees with him.
"I have the perfect song," Michael says suddenly, making me look at him with wide eyes. He gives me a naughty look before standing up and walking over to the piano. I take that as my cue to take position next to him; I stand while he sits down. Heart racing, I take a deep breath to calm myself.
After a moment, I hear some chords playing. Immediately recognising the song, I smile. It's the very first song he heard me sing, on the night we met at the Hotel Sinclair. I take a deep breath before singing:
"There's music in the air, it makes our sorrow go, let the music take you there, far from the world you know... I can feel it when I sing, then I know love, there's a joy in everything, we're made for love... Look for love, in the music, lost in a melody, you'll find love... Look for love, in the music, lost in a melody, you'll find love..."
A loud applause fills the room when Michael and I take our bows, and everyone – even the children – gives me a standing ovation. I'm instantly receiving hugs and compliments from all the people in the room.
Wow. I must really be good.
* * *
Michael
Thursday December 25th, 1986 – Encino, California
Unable to sleep, I glance at the time on my alarm clock.
23:39.
It's late, but I don't care. I wanna see her. Flopping out of bed, I slip my loafers on and grab my leather jacket before stepping out of my room and tapping gently on Yonela's door.
"It's open!"
Yes! She's still up!
I open the door and peak inside. She's seated at her dresser, brushing and tousling her semi-blonde shoulder length hair. Whatever Janet and Siedah did to it is incredible; I love the color and cut, but the natural curls are still there. It's so hot.
"Michael?" she smiles at my reflection, surprised.
"Miya, grab a coat."
"Why?"
"We're going to studio."
She raises an eyebrow, turning to face me. "Right now...?"
"Shh..." Too impatient to say anymore, I take her hand and practically drag her out of her room and down to the guest house with me.
"Michael, what are you doing?" she whispers when we reach the studio door.
"Just hold on," I whisper back, letting her inside before I shut the door behind me and turn on a light. Still holding on to her hand, I lead her into the recording room.
"Put these on," I instruct, handing her a set of headphones.
"Why?" she interrogates.
"Please," I ask softly. "Put them on."
Hesitant, Yonela positions the headphones in place after taking a seat on a stool. I bite my lip coyly before rushing back to the mixing room to talk to her through the producer's microphone.
"Can you hear me?" I ask before she nods at me. I give her a small smile before going on. "I wanna play something for you."
"What is it?" Her voice is slightly muffled by the soundproof walls. I take a moment before responding to her.
"Close your eyes."
Watching through the glass, I see her finally close her eyes before quickly fixing up the machine. I slide a switch on the console, letting the song play.
"Liberian girl, you came and you changed my world, your love so brand new... Liberian girl, you came and you changed me girl, a feeling so true... Liberian girl, you know that you came and you changed my world, just like in the movies... With two lovers in a scene, and she says do you love me, and he says so endlessly... I love you Liberian girl..."
Re-singing the words in my head, I see Yonela's expression soften.
"Liberian girl, more precious than any pearl, your love so complete... Liberian girl, you kiss then ooh the world, you do this to me... Liberian girl, you know that you came and you changed my world, I wait for the day... When you have to say I do, then I smile and say it too, and forever we'll be true... I love you, Liberian girl..."
I stand up before quietly walking into the recording room. I stand behind her, singing out loud as the song fades.
"All the time... I love you... I love you, baby... I want you..."
She quickly turns around upon noticing me behind her.
"It's your Christmas present," I say softly. "I know it's just a demo, but... I wrote it just for you."
"It's beautiful," she whispers, her voice a little shaky. I take her small, soft hand in mine, laying a kiss on it before taking her other hand. I give them both a gentle squeeze, and she squeezes back.
"Merry Christmas, Miya."
She lets out a small chuckle. "Merry Christmas, Jackson."
* * *
A/N: Okay - I know it's late, but Merry Christmas, Lovelies! Hope the festive season is treating you all very well.
I'd like to take a moment to thank all of you, my dear readers, for giving this story the support that you have. All your feedback, positive or negative, has really helped me to grow as an author. It encourages me to keep writing for you, and I love you all very much.
Until the next chapter...
Meriam xx