"Mimi! I thought you'd never call. Who is he? What's his name? When and how did you meet him? How does he look?"
Gabby was her usual overly curious self and cut straight to the case, and I rolled my eyes. Still, I couldn't help but to smile.
"Tell me!" she whined.
"There is no 'he'," I tried, but Gabby scoffed so loudly that it sounded like she dropped her phone onto something hard.
"Kiss my fine behind, Mia. That's bullshit! Now spit it out, unless you want me to crawl through the phone like a modernized Annabelle. And I'll promise you I'll be scarier than her. A lot scarier!"
"Okay! Okay!" I exclaimed with eyes widened in anxiousness, while I nervously glanced in the direction of my closet. Then I gazed at my own reflection in the mirror to see if someone was lurking under the bed I was sitting on. I gulped.
"I'll tell you. But I still haven't forgiven you for making me watch that horrible movie."
Gabby cackled like a goose, and I pursed my lips before I took a deep breath and started telling her about 'Mr. Weirdo'.
"Out of the blue?" she asked when I was done.
"Mhm."
"Just like that?"
"Mhm," I hummed again, giggling a little.
"And all because of your profile on Tinder? The profile that I made for you? Sis, I told you'd find your prince charming there."
"Stop it. I still don't know his name, and..."
"Then ask," she interrupted.
"Yeah, but I don't know anything about him, so I..."
"Then start asking questions! Or maybe you should wait and let it be a surprise for your date tomorrow?"
I groaned.
"I already told you that I'm not going. I've never been on a blind date before in my life, and this will definitely not be my first. It's one thing if we had friends in common, because then I'd known if I could trust him or not. But this is a complete stranger, who could be a rapist or a murderer, and I do not intend to become a number in the homicide statistics."
"You won't, Mia. Stop being so paranoid. You're going on that date even if I have to carry you there. And you can just insist on meeting him in public. Not even the most bloodthirsty serial killer will dare to touch you with lots of other people around. And! It's easier to dump him if he's an obvious waste of time. Easy peasy."
I sighed and let myself fall back on my bed.
"Okay. But it's only a maybe. I'll have to see what happens tomorrow."
I heard a squeal from the other end, and barked a short goodbye to her before I hung up. Then I looked at the poster of my all time idol, hanging on the wall.
"So a date, huh? I hope he's like you, then."
But as always, I didn't get any answer. Only the everlasting sexy frown that had made my mom blush when she saw it for the first time. And I didn't blame her. He was the hottest man on the planet, after all. And his name was Michael Jackson.
<><><>
"Good morning, sunshine. Did you sleep well?"
The text beamed towards me when I turned off my alarm. And I didn't even notice at first, but I actually smiled. Me. The grumpiest morning face in modern time, smiling while turning my alarm off? Unbelievable. And now I yawned and stretched while I thought about what to say to him.
"I thought you said it was night time for you? And yes, I slept well. Thanks for asking."
I got up and walked to the toilet. But unlike most days, I brought my phone with me and put it on the shelf above the sink. And while I washed my hands, a new text ticked in.
"It is. But my body doesn't know."
For some strange reason, that made me blush. In my mind he was still just a floating head. A head that I didn't know what looked like, but had a constant diarrhea of questions coming out of it. Ridiculous. Of course he had a body.
"You didn't tell me what your favorite song was," he added shortly after. And I rolled my eyes. In his head we were already dating, so if I told him, it would probably be an invitation to make me an 'I❤️U' -mixtape or something. I giggled. That would actually be cute. But since I couldn't make up my mind, I decided to start asking him questions too. Gabby would be so proud of me.
"And you didn't tell me why you were busy last night."
I almost bit my tongue after I'd pushed 'send'. Did I really want to know? Maybe it was something weird or perverted or..."
"I was at a concert."
Oh. That sounded pretty normal.
"Really? Who?" I typed back.
"Mine."
I laughed out loud, and almost choked on my toothpaste as I spat it out into the sink.
"Funny... Come on. Who was it?"
"Okay. It was Michael Jackson."
I nearly dropped my phone. And my hands were literally trembling while I wrote back.
"FR?! That's insane! Was it good?"
"Yeah, I hope so? Why?"
"Hope? Dude, Michael Jackson is the greatest artist ever! And he's the reason why I'll probably die bitter and lonely. 😂 No offense to you of course, but he's the man of my dreams."
I realized that time ran away with me, so I quickly pulled out some clothes from my closet, and put them on. And I smiled when I discovered that I'd coincidentally had put on a red t-shirt. Maybe this date wasn't such a bad idea after all? Even if we didn't match in personality, we could always talk about Michael. And I could milk him from every tiny detail from the concert, and then go home and cry myself to sleep in jealousy for not being there myself.
"So you like him? 😅"
"No."
I smirked all the way to the kitchen, where I grabbed myself something to eat before leaving for school.
"Oh... 😔" he replied, and I giggled. Then I wrote an explanation.
"I don't like him. I love him! 💖 Don't you? I mean, you were even at his concert."
"Well... I guess. Have you been to one?"
Shit! I should have left five minutes ago. This guy is seriously distracting me!
"No, I haven't. I gtg to school now, but keep talking."
Then I quickly typed text to Gabby:
"He likes Michael Jackson!!!! 😍😭"
And then I ran.
<><><>
Gabby looked like she was going to explode with questions when I entered the classroom half an hour later, just in time for Ms. Brennan to arrive. But I still grabbed the chance to check my phone, while she started preparing for class.
"Would you like to go to one?"
What a ridiculous question!
"Please don't joke about that, 'cause I'll die either way. Either from disappointment if it doesn't happen, or from sheer happiness afterwards. And if I don't die afterwards, then you'll have to kill me, because I've officially nothing more to live for."
I pushed 'send', and turned my phone off for the rest of the class. But if you asked me about what Ms. Brennan tried to teach us, I'd be blank, because my mind was all over the place. And the way Gabby smirked, told me she knew why.
The second the class was over, she jolted up so fast that she almost knocked over her chair, before ran over to me.
"Spill! The! Beans!" she demanded, and grasped after my phone. Luckily I was faster than her, and I quickly turned away so I could check it for myself. But I got bummed when the screen came up empty. No new messages.
"But there's nothing more to say. He likes Michael Jackson and went to his concert, and that's it."
"He went to a Michael Jackson concert?!" she exclaimed so loudly that people around turned their heads.
"Shhh! Yes. And he lowkey invited me to one too, although I doubt that'll ever happen. I'm not even sure about that date he was talking about. He hasn't mentioned it again."
"It'll happen, Mimi. Mark my words. This guy might be the man of your dreams, and I'm gonna help you find the perfect outfit for tonight."
"It needs to be red," I said, suddenly feeling a bit shy.
"Hmm... Sounds perfect."
I blushed thinking about the first text from him. Him... He needed a name, dammit. But since it didn't seem like he was going to tell me, I figured I'd give him one myself.
Bradley. Like Bradley Cooper. He's hot as fuck. But what if Mr. Weirdo wasn't hot at all? Then Bradley would be completely wrong. So maybe, Jake would be better? Jake Gyllenhaal was okay. So while Gabby was busy stuffing her books into her backpack so we could move on to drama class, I texted him.
"Is it okay if I call you Jake?"
I didn't expect an answer, since I thought he'd fallen asleep or something. So I got surprised to see that a reply popped up shortly after.
"Sorry I disappeared. I'm at the airport now, waiting for my jet to get me outta here."
I scoffed. 'My jet'. Who does he think he is? James Bond or something?
"Jake is fine by me, although I would prefer Michael."
Michael? As in Jackson? Ha. He probably said that because he knew Michael was my biggest idol. Jerk. But it was still a bit adorable.
"I'm not falling for your tricks, JAKE. Now, do I have to guess how you look like, too?"
I bit my lip, curious like a kid at Christmas morning.
"Describe the man of your dreams, and you'll have the answer."
"Oh, my God," I mumbled to myself. This guy had confidence enough for an entire army, that's for sure.
"What?" Gabby said, while chewing on a piece of apple. The class was about to start, so I whispered.
"I'm trying to find out what he looks like."
"For real? Girl, I hope you know that you just begged him for a dickpic."
I gasped and stared at her in shock.
"I did not?!"
But she just shrugged, as we both watched Mr. Barry squinting through the classroom. Phone break.
<><><>
Luckily I didn't get any dickpic. I didn't get a picture at all, and my question was left unanswered.
"I'll be wearing red tonight too, so we'll be a great couple."
"You never told me what your favorite flower was, so I'm guessing... No, I already know what I want to give you. 😉"
"Any wishes for tonight, baby? If not, I have a couple of ideas in mind. One of them might include a chopper, so we don't waste our time driving."
"What's your favorite meal?"
All of these were texts he'd sent me while I was in class.
"Chopper? You're joking, right? Anyway. If you think I'm coming to some kind of deserted place with just you and me, I have to disappoint you. Our date will be in public. Somewhere with a lot of people, so I can be sure that I'll survive and get home in one piece."
"I wasn't joking."
Hm. This guy made me more and more confused.
"Neither was I. In public! A movie or something? Or a restaurant. Inexpensive, please."
It took some time until he answered, and I went through the entire next class wondering what he was thinking. But when it was lunchtime, I got my answer.
"Okay. I guess I can do that. What's your address? I'll pick you up at seven. Or I'll have my driver to do it, if I get difficulties. If so, I apologize in advance."
I blinked my eyes several times, because I felt that I was missing out on something important. So to make sure I hadn't misread something, I skimmed through our entire conversation from top to bottom. But I was still clueless. Unless this guy actually was Michael Jackson. I laughed out loud. Yeah, right. And I'm the pope.
I felt Gabby's eyes on me, and knew I had to tell her everything while we were picking out my outfit later, but I mouthed the time for my date and pointed at my pretend wristwatch so she could be prepared. As if Gabby ever needed to prepare for things like that at all. I was like she was born to combine colors, patterns and shapes. She just looked at it, and knew if it was a yes or a no. And she succeeded almost without any exception. But the closer it got to seven o'clock, the more nervous I got. And eventually I texted him.
"I'd prefer that I got the address to where we're going, because I don't want to give my home address to strangers."
"I really wish you weren't so stubborn, but fair enough."
Then he sent me what I needed, and I got my mom to drive me there. She was just as nervous as me, when she let me off as close to the restaurant as possible.
"You look stunning in red, Mia. You should wear that more often. But I have to say that I am relieved that you won't be alone with him. And please call me if you need me to pick you up, okay?"
"Thanks, mom," I said, and anxiously glanced at the myriad of people who had gathered outside the building. And just to make sure, I leaned into the car again.
"Are you sure this was the right address?"
She looked at the little note I'd given her, and nodded.
"I think so. It's probably just someone famous that gets stalked by paparazzis or something. Nothing to worry about."
She was right to some degree. Because after she'd left, I found out that the entire restaurant was filled with crazy people, screaming for pictures and autographs from some poor soul. The waiters were too busy trying to make them leave, to help me find my date. So I took a long glance around, trying to spot a man with red shirt or suit, but found no one. And I didn't even bother to try and see who was trapped in the middle of the chaos over at the right corner.
"Can I help you, miss?" a young waitress asked. She was hectic red in her face, after trying to get control over the situation, so I decided to not be a bother.
"No, thank you. I got the wrong address," I sighed with a tired smile.
And then I left.