Bill was silently ecstatic, grinning like a proud father when Michael and Nicole emerged from the bedroom ready to attend the Broadway show. He complimented them, admiring how good they looked, Nicole in a simple black dress with boots and black tights. Michael in a smooth fitted blazer, afro wig, and poorly drawn mustache. He looked like a boy again. But not just in attire, Bill praised how good the couple looked together. Hand in hand. Smiling with hope in their eyes and a radiating warmth in their hearts.
Laura's gaze was less optimistic as she snatched Nicole's hand, pulling her eagerly into the kitchen. As she pretended to fix the pins in Nicole's hair, she whispered, begging for the juicy details.
Laura: What's going on? You two made up!? I knew that 'no sex' thing was bullshit--
Nicole: Laura, quit it.
Nicole thought back to the moments after she denied Michael's touch. She could sense his reluctance as he dressed her slowly. She was questioning if she'd made a terrible mistake herself, in promising Michael they'd be celibate together until he returned to LA, knowing how good just a teasing finger or flick of his tongue would feel inside her. Now she knew for certain that Michael's decision to abstain from sex was not one he made lightly.
But just that small dose of intimacy did the two a world of good, instantly finding comfort and ease in touching and smiling together. The hurt and animosity would be pushed under the rug for another day, because now, they were on the same team. Partners in their fight against physical temptation. They kissed frequently as they prepared for the play, but Michael's hands remained at bay, reminding Nicole of the early days of their courtship.
I kiss you like that again...
Nicole hoped it would serve as motivation. She'd do whatever it took to get Michael home and in her bed again.
Laura: Girl, come on! I need details--
Nicole's eyes blinked back to her friend's craving stare. Then she turned, searching the room to see Michael by the door, flexing the collar of his coat to hide his neck. He winked. She blushed.
Nicole: I can't give you details, Laura. Not anymore.
Laura: Why!? What'd I do!?
Nicole watched as her eyes shrunk, so she reached for her best friend's hands. She had no intention of making Laura feel guilty for her own negligence.
Nicole: Nothing! It's not you-- it's just... Michael and I have a lot of work to do, you know? We want to get back to a good place. And it's not fair to him if every time I'm upset, I go crying to you. Then I get even more worked up, when it's just a simple misunderstanding--
Laura: Oh my God, did he say anything about Diana Ross!? You have to tell me!--
Nicole: Laura, that's exactly my point. You didn't do anything wrong. You're my best friend and I'm so used to having you by my side in everything, but I'm learning that some things have to be just between Michael and me. You understand, don't you?
Laura was silent. While she wanted to be sympathetic, Nicole's words were doing little to ease the discomfort that'd been growing for weeks. All their lives the girls had protected each other. She was her sister's keeper. But now, it seemed like Nicole had a plan to do things her own way. Respectfully, and regrettably, Laura nodded, propelling Nicole to pull her in for a tight hug and kiss on the cheek.
Nicole: Thank you, I knew you'd understand!
~*~*~
"Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street" was a musical tale about a man of the same name. After being accused of a crime he didn't commit, he was forced into exile. Then, after 15 years, Todd returned home to London, seeking revenge on the judge who ruined his life. He opens a decoy barbershop, slitting the throats of every man who sits in his chair, eventually murdering dozens as he patiently waits for his target to arrive. It was a dark story, with little laughter and a hopeless ending.
What was the moral in all this?
Laura watched the show, with one strong eye still fixated on Michael. What was he trying to pull? Suddenly his schedule cleared up enough that he could tag along? And he was magically able to get them backstage to meet Angela Lansbury and the cast through their mutual friend Carol Burnett!? Laura tried desperately to cling to the bitterness and suspicions that kept her alert. But by the time the four sat down to dinner at a stunning Italian bistro, Laura's defenses had fallen, too tired to withstand the weight of paranoia on her own. Letting a grudge ruin her trip seemed far more draining than Michael would ever even recognize. So she acquiesced to his charm and perfect smile. He laughed in a way that made her forget the fishy-ness and chuckle along. And when she watched Nicole's eyes flutter to his or the way his fingers lingered against her hand and lips whispered to her ear, Laura thought surely Nicole was right. It was all just a misunderstanding.
They stayed up late that night, laughing as each told stories, shocking Bill with the anecdote of a wild game of "Never Have I Ever." And though he chuckled along, feigning forgetfulness to the actual number of shots he drank that day, a trace of hardness remained in Michael. He was tense in a way Nicole recognized, but hoped would pass as the moon grew brighter. Squeezing his shoulders, she attempted to soothe him, but the strain couldn't be massaged away. And she was far too fearful to question it out loud. Nicole still missed her playful boyfriend who would tease and tickle and joke, steady searching his eyes in an effort to find that bit of misplaced magic... But this man, this new, firm and svelte man, would do until her sweet Peter Pan returned.
Michael's head was heavy against her ribcage as they held each other in bed that night-- fully clothed. He was quiet, she thought, as he changed into his fancy pajamas, so she offered a story. A continuation of the one they started together months ago on a hangover above the ocean and reminisced on many late nights since. King Michael of Liberia had still been fighting the greedy demon desperate to buy beauty. When Nicole, for the sake of plot advancement, would offer the demon a slight victory, Michael would suddenly be wide awake, whining and groaning, "no, no-- Nicole! The good guys have to win! They have to!" So Nicole would try again, offering new ways for the King and Queen to maintain power over their kingdom and banish the demon until she was certain Michael had drifted to sleep.
But Nicole was restless tonight. Their time in New York was winding down and she hadn't gained the closure she needed. It was hard to sleep when her mind still questioned when she'd see Michael again. Her heart didn't feel capable of withstanding another two months alone...
Unless?
Maybe Michael was right. Nicole remembered Family Day, the way his swollen eyes watched babies playing in the grass as they sat together at the top of that old tree. Now he was here, a stranger in cold, lonely, New York City, forfeiting their relationship for his work. Michael Jackson knew only work. No other life than one of sacrifice. He was always acting in service to others, gaining so little in return. Was she unfair to not even entertain the offer? New York did have its share of universities that catered towards writers. Fordham and Colombia-- and maybe these were lofty goals, but who was she to say "no" without even trying? Maybe this too, was all a part of growing up.
She slipped out of bed, pacing to visualize with clarity what her parents would say as she broke the news. Supportive, surely. Eric and Janice each liked Michael, at least, as a boyfriend. Maybe they'd like him less as a roommate. Maybe she would like him less as a roommate. And Laura? Moving here with Michael would forever squash their plans of living the fun singles life like the women on television. In time, Laura would understand...
Finding herself in the closet, Nicole again admired the larger than life sketch of Mrs. Jackson. Effortlessly classy. Nicole wondered what it must've been like to move nine children across the country to a new community of people who don't look like you. Or dress, or think, or speak like you. People who, with a slight change of fate or in a different time, could literally own you. How could she trust that uprooting her life was the right decision? Nicole fingered the pencil lines a little longer until she saw Michael in Katherine's eyes.
Michael Jackson. He's the strongest man I know.
What was happening behind those eyes?
Nicole stood, stretching and twisting her back as the weight of exhaustion settled on her shoulders. Drifting towards the door she admired Michael's wardrobe, a little shimmery-er than the clothes she was used to seeing him in. Many still held their original tags. A silky red top. White pants with crystal stripes down the legs. A drawer, filled to the brim with stacked pairs of jet black shades. And a note. Folded tight on faded paper lay right on top.
MJ will be my new name. No more Michael Jackson. I want a whole new character, a whole new look, I should be a totally different person. People should never think of me as the kid who sang I want you back. I should be a new incredible actor, singer, dancer that will shock the world. I will do no interviews. I will be magic. I will be a perfectionist. A researcher. A trainer. A master. I will be better than every great actor roped in one. I must have the most incredible training system. To dig and dig and dig. I will study and look back on the whole world of entertainment and perfect it. Take it steps further from where the greats left off.