Saving Michael Jackson

Vinyls with Michael

Michael lowered his gaze, his expression dimming in a way that made something heavy settle inside my chest. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. Maybe he didn't believe me. Maybe he was simply overwhelmed by everything that had happened, or worse, maybe some terrible part of him believed I had wanted Alfred near me. The thought alone made my stomach twist.
I could never.Even if Alfred had- No. I couldn't even force myself to finish the thought, because it made me feel sick in a way I couldn't explain. The shame of it lingered where it didn't belong, crawling beneath my skin, though I knew none of it would have been my fault. Still, I knew one thing with terrifying certainty: the only man I could ever imagine being with, really being with—was Michael.

After everything that had happened, I took a long shower, letting the warm water wash away the exhaustion clinging to me before finally dragging myself to bed. The room felt strangely quiet as I settled beneath the covers, resting my head against the pillow while staring absentmindedly at the floor.

A knock sounded softly against the doorframe.

"We're going to the mall tomorrow."

I looked up to find Michael standing there.

"How?" I blinked at him. "You're Michael Jackson."

He let out a quiet giggle, lowering his head for a second. "Some friends of mine are gonna close it just for us," he said. "It'll be us, Wanda, and some other friends."

"Okay," I said softly.

"Goodnight," he smiled, lingering near the doorway. "I'm gonna leave the door open."

I frowned. "Why?"

"So I can hear you if you're having another nightmare." The softness in his voice caught me completely off guard.

He smiled—that small, warm smile that somehow always made him look younger—before quietly walking away. I watched the open doorway for a moment after he disappeared. Nobody had ever done something like that for me before.

By the time I closed my eyes, exhaustion had already begun pulling me under. As much as my thoughts kept drifting back to Michael—his voice, the way he looked at me, the anger in his eyes when he protected me—I barely had enough energy to hold onto consciousness. Sleep found me almost instantly.

The next morning felt lighter.

Knowing Alfred was gone filled me with relief I hadn't realized I desperately needed. For the first time since arriving here, I felt like I could actually breathe again. Although, embarrassingly enough, my mind kept replaying Michael from yesterday.
The anger. The look on his face. Was it weird that I found it attractive? God. His voice had been so loud, so protective, and somehow it had only made him more— No. I needed to stop thinking. Fast.

By the time we arrived at the mall, my thoughts had finally quieted, though the second our car slowed down, reality hit hard. The place outside was packed. Fans pressed against barriers while paparazzi crowded near the entrance, cameras flashing endlessly.

"Michael! Michael, we love you!" a girl screamed from somewhere near the front.

"Michael!" a photographer shouted, camera snapping rapidly. "Are you hanging out with your girlfriends? Is there a threesome now?"

"Shut up," Wanda shot back instantly.

The moment he pointed his camera toward her, she lifted her middle finger without hesitation.
Typical Wanda. With security helping guide us through the chaos, we finally made it inside safely, though the shouting outside still echoed faintly through the entrance. The mall itself was stunning. Bright lights reflected against polished floors, elegant storefronts stretching endlessly around us, but what immediately caught my attention was the fountain standing proudly in the center, decorated with little dolphin statues frozen mid-jump. I barely had time to admire it before something else stole my attention. A record store. Bob's Vinyl. Without thinking twice, I headed straight toward it.