Saving Michael Jackson

Everyone Knows me

Michael takes my hand and leads me onto the dance floor. Around us, couples sway beneath the warm glow of chandeliers, the polished floor reflecting flashes of light from every direction. Everyone has a partner, everyone is lost in the music, but somehow all I can focus on is him.
His hand settles gently on my waist while his other holds mine. The orchestra's melody wraps around us as we begin to move.

"You look beautiful," he whispers.

A nervous giggle escapes me, and I rest my head against his shoulder. I can hear his heartbeat beneath the fabric of his suit, steady and comforting.

"You know you're the most precious thing that has ever come into my life," he says softly. My breath catches. "I want you to know that." Slowly, he takes both of my hands and looks directly into my eyes. The seriousness in his expression makes my stomach flutter. "I want you to know that I love you."

"Mike..." I furrow my brows, staring at him. He just said he loves me. He loves me. His thumb strokes my cheek gently. "I love you very much. You know that?"

"I know now," I whisper. My voice trembles as I shake my head in disbelief.
The smile on his face softens. He leans closer, and before I can think, before I can question anything, his lips meet mine. Right there. In front of everyone. The moment his lips touch mine, the world disappears. The music becomes distant. The people vanish. It's as if the entire dance floor melts away until there's only Michael and me standing in our own little universe. A world made of butterflies, warmth, and a love so overwhelming it almost hurts.

When we finally pull apart, reality rushes back.
Applause erupts around us. People cheer. Someone whistles.  Camera flashes go off from every direction.

"Woah!" Wanda shouts, clapping loudly.

Michael and I burst into laughter. He wraps his arms around me, holding me close as the crowd continues cheering. The reaction is so intense it feels like Michael just proposed marriage. Everyone is smiling. Everyone seems genuinely happy for us. Everyone except Frank. His manager sits on the couch across the room, cigar still hanging from his mouth as he watches us with narrowed eyes. The look he gives me sends a chill down my spine, as if I've stolen something that belonged to him.

"Guys, be serious," Wanda suddenly says. "Doesn't Jermaine look like a supermodel?" She grabs Jermaine's cheeks.

Jermaine immediately looks embarrassed.
"Stop," he says, smiling despite himself.

Michael chuckles. "Would you look at that? I thought you didn't like my brother."

"I don't," Wanda says.
Jermaine gives her a confused look. Then she bursts out laughing. "I'm joking!" She smacks his arm. "We decided to just be buddies."

"So it's not a secret anymore?" Jermaine asks us, taking a sip from his glass.  "You two lovers now?"

"Yeah, we are." Michael squeezes my hand and smiles down at me. My heart skips.

"Ugh," Wanda groans dramatically. "I guess I'll be the third wheel now." She slaps Jermaine's arm again.

"Hey!" he protests. "Do you have something against my arm?"

I laugh. Then something catches my eye. Actually, two people.

"Oh my—"

I stare toward one of the tables. Madonna. And Brooke Shields. Talking together. My brain practically stops functioning. Michael follows my gaze and starts giggling. Then Brooke notices us. Not Michael. Us. Me.  My heart nearly explodes.

"Who are you fangirling over?" Wanda asks, looking around.

Before I can answer, Brooke and Madonna begin walking toward us. Brooke reaches Michael first.