Saving Michael Jackson

I'm Cindy Grande, Michael's Girl

25th March 1990

I was genuinely happy that Ryan was coming back to Neverland. The last time he had visited, I had seen something in him that I hadn't expected. Happiness. Not the forced kind people wore when they were trying to convince others they were okay. Real happiness. The kind that made his eyes light up. The kind that made him forget, if only for a little while, how cruel people could be.
As I waited for him to arrive, I found myself wondering if maybe I had somehow changed something. Maybe Ryan wasn't supposed to look this healthy. Maybe I had already saved him without realizing it. I couldn't remember exactly when he died in my original timeline. The details were blurry. But every time I saw him, he looked stronger. Healthier. He could walk around Neverland. Laugh. Run. Be a normal kid. The thought made my chest feel lighter.

"How do I look?" Michael asked.

I looked up. He had just come downstairs with his arms spread wide as if he were presenting himself on a game show. Black pants. Black loafers. A black and red military-style jacket. And, of course, the hat. Always the hat.

"Wow," Wanda said dramatically. "You look like Michael Jackson."

Michael rolled his eyes. "Very funny."

Before Wanda could continue teasing him, the sound of a car pulling into the driveway reached us. Michael immediately turned toward the window.

"Oh, they're here." His entire face brightened.
And that alone told me how much Ryan meant to him.

We stepped outside together. Ryan climbed out of the car first. His mother followed. Then his sister.
And this time there was somebody else. A girl. Wanda noticed immediately.

"Yo!" she exclaimed as she ruffled Ryan's hair. "The kid already has a girlfriend!"

Ryan groaned. "Wanda!"

The girl beside him blushed.

"This is Heather," Ryan explained. "My best friend."

Heather smiled shyly. She looked like she had stepped straight out of an eighties movie. Big curls. Denim jacket. Bright smile. The whole package.

"Let me show you the house," Michael said excitedly. "I didn't get to last time."

Ryan's eyes widened. Immediately, he followed Michael inside. I smiled. Watching them together was enough to make anyone emotional. Michael genuinely adored that kid. And Ryan looked at him the way other children looked at superheroes.

While Michael showed everyone around Neverland, I wandered into the kitchen. The smell hit me instantly. Chicken. Lots of chicken. A woman I assumed was the cook stood over the stove.

"I really hope we have something besides chicken," I joked.

The cook turned around.
"What?" she asked. "You don't eat chicken?"

"I'm just saying—"

"You veggie-daggy," Wanda interrupted dramatically.

Before anyone could stop her, she stole a piece of chicken from a plate.

"Hey!" the cook shouted. "Not now!"